


But did you die?

by Greasáil (liverose), liverose



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Anxiety Disorder, Awkward Dates, Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom/sub Play, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Light Bondage, Modern Era, Situational Humiliation, Snakes, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 97,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/Greas%C3%A1il, https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/liverose
Summary: When Geralt has to travel outside of the city to scratch at a specific itch, he realizes his repuation proceeds him in a terrible way. Someone understands that struggle, and just wants him to be happy.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 21





	1. Bowling

No one would approach him, again, it was disheartening surely but not to be unexpected and he wouldn't stir up trouble by aproaching someone else. Circles like these, in bars like these, reputation was nearly everything, almost more than the reality of what you could do. Unfortunately for Geralt his reputation was, unstable, the very last thing you want to be, a scarlet letter. He hadn't even gotten that reputation in _this_ bar, in _this_ city, but that didn't matter, word travels, rumors spread and he looked distinct enough that he couldn't exactly be mistaken as someone else. So why come back to this bar? From a logistics perspective there weren't many options in this prim city pretending to be the suburb. The job he was offered here he couldn't turn down, but the community, his surroundings were both overloading and lacking in equal regard.

Logistics aside, why go to any bar? He wasn't exactly a people person. Yet still he surrounded himself with people enjoying but not allowing him to partake in what he wanted. He had a bad habit of that, he liked being near, even if he couldn't touch and that could be a good thing, if done well one of the best things, but it didn't translate well outside of when it was best and he had a hard time turning it off. So watching from a corner being sullen and miserable was what he had resigned himself to. If he was lucky he could be someone's last resort, that had happened what two weeks ago? That someone had been drunk, which had made things . . . dangerous. Contrary to his reputation he didn't like dangerous, he liked control there was a very distinct difference. So it had not been fun, exactly, it had . . . happened and no one died, so it could have ended worse and it had instilled some stupid forlorn hope he could scratch that itch, so he sat sullen and miserable, again.

"Marx?! A redbull and vodka please! Hello." Someone was sitting next to him. He didn't make eye contact, that'd surely scare the person just being polite while waiting for a drink away and he'd string this formality of human contact along as long as he could.  
"Hi."  
"Are you . . . ok?" She sounded scared, which of course, but there was concern in there, which was odd for a formality.  
"Yes."  
"You don't look ok." How long would it take her to get this drink?  
"I'm . . . fine." Was that better? More honest?  
"I can help you." Was she propositioning him? He wasn't opposed to forwardness, but he didn't hear . . . want in her voice, it was still sounding very much of polite concern.  
"Help me with what?" He grumbled. Part of him was thinking this was a dare or a prank, how long could she bear being in his presence? He went from lingering to pushing away this conversation.  
"Don't worry I'm not trying to have sex with you." And if that wasn't the most off kilter sentence, with the most reassuring tone he wasn't sure what was and his face must surely have shone it. "Not with me at least." That made slightly more sense.  
"What you've got an unrully pet?" He let out a snort, perhaps that's what it was. She wanted him to get his hands dirty on her behalf. But to be honest, that meant there had to be the smallest bit of trust he wasn't some absolute monster, so maybe being tossed this wasn't something he should look at so distastefuly. He finally let his eyes lull over to her. From what plane of existence did she come from? In a room full of leather and lace, color schemes and everything such a certain way she looked completely out of place, comfortable but out of place, like she had went out for quizzo and ended up in quite the wrong bar.  
"Yeah I know." And there was a mild annoyance to her voice as to imply she was aware of the suggested but not enforced dress code and it was a choice not a mistake. The annoyance left her face and she seemed to be staring at him for longer than maybe she had intended, getting up close to something so dangerous will do that.  
"Can I help you?" He tried not to seem frightening but he tried that always and he doubted tonight was the night it worked.  
"Right. No it's me helping you. Out of this poor rut of yours." So she knew, but surely everyone knew, everyone's always sticking their nose where it didn't belong, judging. "So I'm going to put my hand on your arm, give you very needy pleading eyes for a few moments till we get a few more stares." She saw them too, people were looking, already. "Then you're going to put your hand on my shoulder, politely decline and leave."  
"I don't normally take direction." Maybe she had the heard other rumors? But still even if she thought he was one for submitting, why asked to be denied? It was an odd request. Odd requests were better than none he supposed, it was something to do outside of listening to the bartender sing out of tune with the juke box.

  
"I'm sure that you don't." And her hand was on his arm, stroking softly and really at this point any contact was . . . fine. "And I'm sure you'll be much happier giving direction. Once they see you have self restraint, you'll likely go horse with all the direction you give." Each word seemed confident on the surface but now that he was listening with a bit more scrutiny the fear that was there had been replaced with something more closely resembling uncertainty. Though he hadn't exactly given her anything to be certain about. She smiled warmly albeit a bit meek, but it was nice . . . he was sure it was nicer full, nicer pleased, and he felt his unsatisfied itch just flare at the small wandering of his mind. Her drink was placed down and part of him wished to grab the wrist to the hand reaching out for it. What if she left? She had in fact just come for that right? Talking to him was a formality? Killing time? But she had said something about showing restraint, and that, he was determined to show her, was something he had, in spades. Still he didn't want her to go, not just yet.  
"Fine." That one word didn't exactly dazzle or encourage a topic of discussion but he saw some uncertainty leave her, could see her relax in her seat a bit more and that got the itch going again, his mind wandering. If he could form a sentence how would she respond?  
"I'm glad." And she wasn't exactly throwing out sonnets but her eyes were wonderfully expressive, they just seemed almost appreciative. Then out of nowhere they grew wide and full of want, this was a cheap false pandering want though, which to her defense she had warned him about, had been part of her poorly explained plan to have him get laid . . . not by her. Now he wanted her though, he hadn't wanted anyone in particular in quite a while, half due to the fact he was less than a begger so he couldn't rightfully be choosy and half he never really wanted _someone_ , yes he had personal preferences but a red head is a red head is a red head. "Call it a hunch I just think you should be happy." People thought him cruel? She was giving him the first attention he had gotten in months and the next part of her master plan was for him to turn and leave. "Gossip can do terrible things to perfectly decent people." How she was holding a one sided conversation while maintaining these nearly convincing pleading stares of hers was a bit baffling to him, the other hand falling to his thigh did not help his train of thought much. "This is the part where you say no thank you." That sentence twisted at him, it looked as if it twisted her too, the want in her eyes flickered for a moment, was genuine for an almost indetectible half second. It was gone as soon as it appeared though, replaced by genuine fear. He wanted to see that fear gone and he knew just how to do that. He put a hand on her shoulder, felt her flinch under it, any confidence she had come with, gone, and he spoke.  
"No thank you." He left her alone.

What spell had been cast over the night? He was being approached, again, someone different, a red head none the less. "Can I sit with you?" This one had want from the beginning, it was a flirty light want.  
"Sure." If this was to be another ridiculous test of restraint he . . . well he'd continue to sit sullen and miserable, it beat staying home with his brothers.  
"I saw you turned down Cordelia."  
"Hmm." Had he turned her down or had it been the other way around?  
"That was surprising."  
"Do people not turn her down?" Maybe it wasn't his restraint she had been testing, but Cordelia hadn't been exuding femme fatal confidence.  
"No she doesn't . . . We all just thought you were like her. But you're not . . . are you?"  
"I doubt it." Dangerous? Unhinged? Cordelia didn't seem to even give off the misconception of reckless. Whatever Cordelia was he was fairly confident he nor even the reputation that plagued him shared many similarities. She seemed . . . nice. He wasn't dangerous, but he also wasn't nice.  
"What _are_ you like?" This girl obviously was growing tired of his short uninspired answers.  
"I'm not much for talking." But his skin was itching terribly and a red head is a red head is a red head. "I can show you." His words failed to impress often, but his actions left little to compare. Cordelia's spell had worked, he did have sex, just not with her.

On Mondays Wedndays, Fridays and Sundays the bar double down on it's clientele's particular tendencies. Days with the letter T is in, for reasons lost to the paasgage of time, and the orignal owner, were a bit more laid back. The patrons were mostly the same, but far more into the comrodery of the establishment than indulging in scratching itches. Geralt was not much for socializing, but he was also not much for sleep and why go out of his way to not meet people at multiple places when he could wear one seat down till it was molded to let him sit and brood comfortably. He saw her again the next night, perhaps she was similar to him, just wanting somewhere familiar to not sleep. Not too similar though, she was talking, to a decent group of people. He wanted to thank her for whatever bewitchment she had done, but did he want to thank her enough to have to engage in small talk was the real question. "Hmm." She deserved the thanks, discomfort was just that, not unbearable. As he approached her and what he assumed to be her friends he was swiftly reminded of something, the fear. When her eyes caught his, she nearly lept out of her skin, she . . . left. "Fuck."  
"Huh?" And worse yet now he was trapped by the people he had just barely been willing to endure. "Oh now that makes sense." A boldly grinning man turned at Geralt's curse. "Why hello there mystery man." He sounded . . . silly.  
"Hello." Geralt was standoffish not rude.  
"Jaskier." This silly man also seemed . . . unafraid which after watching Cordelia run from him did sooth at Geralt's ego slightly.  
"Geralt."  
"Don't we know _all_ about you." The group was smiling but Geralt figured it was for all the wrong reasons.  
"You don't."  
"No?" Jaskier seemed not exactly perversely but maybe over enthusiastically entrigued. "Well that sir is a travesty easily remedied. Sit, tell us what we don't know."  
"I think . . . I should go." He couldn't think of another way to put it.  
"Why?"  
"Because-" Was there another sentence for I don't want to talk to you?  
"Oh you just came over to see Cordelia and she's . . . being Cordelia." Jaskier gave a bit of an eye roll.  
"Hmm." That certainly _sounded_ better than I don't want to talk to you.  
"Well stand there like an over grown oak and if she comes back you can snatch her before she runs off again. If she doesn't you still get the joy of hearing how I got blacklisted from olive garden again."  
"Again like you're retelling the story or again like this is not the first time you've been black listed from olive garden?"  
"Both." A woman in group stated both soft and flat.

Cordelia's spell had worked better than to be expected. On days without the letter T, sullen watching shifted to catching the eye of those bold and daring, to a point where the stigma that had followed him was still whispered loudly and often, but it didn't bother most that appreciated a good scratch to their itch. He didn't see her on those days after the first, but he had still wanted to thank her. On the more casual bar nights he would catch a glimpse of her, approach, only for her to flee and leave him stuck with her friends. Which slowly became his aquanitences, till the hope of catching Cordelia was more of a joked pretense to join the conversation.

"Just missed her." Jaskier shot quickly wanting to resume his story. "So-"  
"Jaskier?" Geralt rarely interrupted, hell he rarely spoke, so this took him by surprise.  
"Yes?"  
"Can I . . ." Geralt dragged Jaskier by the shoulder off to the side.  
"Heavy drinking night?" Jaskier wasn't frightened by Geralt being a bit looser than usual but it was something worth noting.  
"Triss had me drink Jager . . .I don't drink Jager it makes me. . ."  
"Talk?"  
"Drunk energy." Geralt shrugged.  
"Did you want to ask me something super secret Geralt?" Jaskier whispered as if they were around a campfire and Geralt was going to beguile him with some monster story.  
"I wanted to ask a question." A more sober Geralt would have bottled up this question, pretended it didn't bother him till he died and let himself be buried with it.  
"Ask away."  
"You're friends with Cordelia right?"  
"I'm friends with everybody." Jaskier had not stopped being silly, and Geralt had not grown a patience for it. "Yes Geralt I'm friends with Cordelia." Jaskier liked Jager Geralt he wished not to lose his attention. "You want to know why she runs every time you come over."  
"I know why." He stated a bit sadly, he hadn't lamented on his reputation often over the last couple weeks. "But do you know why if she's afraid of me, she helped me in the first place?" He watched Jaskier blink at him stupidly for what went beyond possible and into purposeful. "Forget it. Just tell her I said thank you?"  
"She's not afraid of you." Jaskier finally spoke. "She's attracted to you. Do you not know the difference? Gods you are a hopeless animal." Sometimes wine Jaskier could be a bit snippy.  
"Hmm." Geralt did not like being called an animal, but he could bear discomfort so he pressed past it. "She's got a weird way of showing it."  
"Everything about Cordelia is weird." Jaskier let out a dramatic sigh. "But I guess I get it. Can't be easy, giving up the whole scene and then who walks in none other than Mr. exactly her type. I've done the same after a few breakups, but it never lasts. I rebound quickly."  
"So I've seen." Geralt had been there just past a month but Jaskier had already been helplessly heartbroken six and a half times. "So she's nursing a bad breakup?" Geralt felt that odd wanting someone feeling again, he wasn't the type of person who could mend a broken heart but if he was her type, he could give her something, thank her properly for what she'd done for him.  
"Not exactly." And Jaskier, for the first time since Geralt had met him, did not sound silly.  
"What do you mean not exactly?" Geralt had Jaskier by the shoulder again.  
"Er . . . So a lot of this is heresay."  
"Gossip." Silly or not flowery words were engraved in Jaskier.  
"Well if Cordelia would tell her side of the . . . if we lived in a world of elves and faries." No use on lamenting what wouldn't be.  
"Jaskier?!"  
"Her and Vilge had a scene go . . . bad."  
"How bad?"  
"Cordelia has medical bills she's still paying off bad?"  
"Hmm." Jager Geralt while more talkative and touchy feely also was quicker to anger than the normally neutral man that he was. "Seems pretty black and white. Where's the heresay?" No wonder she didn't play anymore, trust is hard, rebuilding trust and paying off debt reminding you of a time it was broken, near impossible.  
"Well . . . Cordelia never used her safe word."  
"How do you know that?"  
"I mean Vilge isn't stupid, he knew he'd look bad . . . knew people would think-"  
"I get it." Geralt knew Jaskier hadn't lost his train of thought, knew he was pulling the breaks because Geralt didn't get a reputation from nothing, he had a scene turn, it wasn't entirely his fault. He had been blitzed by things and people he had not consented to and he lashed out, but the last part is all anyone remembered.  
"He went on a smear campaign almost immediately telling everyone who would listen that Cordelia had never told him to stop."  
"You don't sound convinced." Geralt had strong opinions swirling inside him, but he chalked it up to the alcohol.  
"Cordelia backed him up. Admitted she never told him to stop. She's my friend so I believe her." That was the end of the story, or at least the end of the facts.  
"But?"  
"Vilge has a tendency to be . . . demanding to the point that's uncouth. It's . . . The way she was with him before, it stopped being fun long before that. She felt guilty and stressed more often than not. Something he was doing wasn't right either. So both were in the wrong, they are both adults that made choices . . . seems a bit unfair that Vigei was almost coddled afterwards and Cordelia-"  
"No one trusted her anymore?"  
"She was already . . . an . . . acquired taste I guess, kind of a hard nut to crack. So she wasn't exactly pulling in pick of the litter to begin with. Somehow along the way it warped into she needed just . . . she was a glutton for punishment, the doms that did approach her were only of the very heavy handed variety and while for some that's great it just isn't for her. She just decided she'd rather not play at all than play to scenes that did nothing for her."  
"Makes sense." It made part of him want her more, wanted to solve whatever made her difficult, hunt down exactly what made her let go but the larger part of him knew he had to respect her choice. He was sure it hadn't been an easy one. "Where does she go? When I come over?" She was already alienated from her lifestyle, was Geralt not only teasing her with what she couldn't have but robbing her of the social network she obviously clung to hard enough to be surrounded by it?  
"Probably does . . . bar back stuff. She doesn't sit still well."  
"She works here?"  
"She lives here sometimes."  
"Lives . . . in the bar?"  
"I exaggerate." Jaskier sometimes forgot when his stories got a bit too abstract, he also forgot how literal Geralt tended to take things. "She lives with Nenne and Iola and . . ."  
"That's a lot of people."  
"It's a big house Geralt. Cordelia isn't living in a cupboard under a staircase. Times are tough, friends pool money together, live together." Jaskier worried he had painted Cordelia's life as something tortured and forlorn.  
"Hmm." Geralt could understand that, he had moved out of his family's house years ago. Somehow over those years no matter where he moved it wasn't his house, somehow two brothers and an uncle just . . . had always been there.  
"You should talk to her." Jaskier's voice lost any seriousness it had been clinging to.  
"Jaskier . . . I have tried."  
"Here. In a bar that reeks of leather and lube no matter what mixture of carpet shampoo Cordelia uses. Maybe a more platonic environment?"  
"If she doesn't feel comfortable talking to me you shouldn't force her to."  
"Not force, I'm not hogting her and sticking her in a trunk but if Iola invites Cordelia out bowling which is something I may or may not know they tend to do and I invite you out bowling, well that's just destiny."  
"Destiny?" Geralt parroted flatly. "Trickery."  
" _Is_ there a difference?"  
"I don't want to." It was clear Cordelia had a hard time saying what she did and did not want, he had no such qualms. Geralt did not wish to be one more person forcing her hand.  
"But will you? I'll pay for your shoe rental! You do not impress me as someone who just goes out and does fun activities."  
"I come here."  
"And stand awkward and miserable. Do you even _have_ fun here?"  
"Yes." It wasn't work, anything that wasn't work by default alone was fun right?  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Are you sure you know what fun _is_?"  
"Jaskier." The Jager was wearing off, Geralt was becoming more reserved and stoic by the moment.  
"Is it that you're worried I'd beat you at bowling?"  
"There is nothing that involves even the smallest bit of physical prowess that I am worried you are better at."  
"That is the most you have ever said to me. I've finally figured out what you find fun. Competition! Come bowl with us. If Cordelia runs out screaming unable to trust herself around your powerful sexual aura I won't bring it up again. I'm just saying it'd be nice to have both of you as friends."  
"I'm not your friend."  
"I'm just someone you spend hours with weekly with no exchange of goods or services."  
"Yup." Jager Geralt was gone.  
"Bowling?! Sunday?! Words Geralt?!"  
"If I don't have other plans."  
"Geralt . . . my poor sweet child. You don't have other plans stop trying to play hard to get it does not suit you." Jaskier patted Geralt on the shoulder but the larger man huffed off the patronizing gesture.

"Iola! Cordelia! My lovelies!" Jaskier was an inch under frolicking and it was annoying, it was amusing and it was as every other motion of Jaskier's a purposeful grab for attention. Geralt walked slowly behind, looking around the tacky bowling lane, just yellow paint as far as the eye could see, aged so long it went from mustard to some dull almost gold. It wasn't just the girls, there were others, some Geralt recognized from the bar, some must have been from some other circle of friends Geralt was not privy too, which left him on edge. He was already out of his environment, now there were people he didn't know, wonderful.  
"I'll leave." Maybe a hello would have been a better accompaniment to his wave but Cordelia's look of near horror called for no other words. "You don't-"  
"Did you pay for parking?" She thought . . . oddly.  
"What?" And she seemed to stare at him for another long moment before speaking.  
"Like the parking garage? Did you pay for parking?"  
"Yes?" What was she the meter maid?  
"Us too." There was another long pregnant pause.  
"Cordelia . . . the fuck does parking have to do with anything?" Jaskier was not one for pauses.  
"Well I'm just saying if we all paid to park. It'd be wasted money for any of us to leave right away. Atleast not till we get six dollars and forty three cents worth of . . . this." She waved at the general space.  
"Money isn't everything Cordelia." Iola's voice was whsipy and almost illegible, it was more reading her lips than hearing her words.  
"Debatable." At least she wasn't running, she looked a bit uncomfortable that Geralt was there, but he dealt with that from time to time.  
"Well you sort out the teams I am about to give the shoe woman six dollars and forty three cents worth of my time." Jaskier was off into the uneager arms of a middle aged woman not in love with her job and less likely to be in love with Jaskier's chipper attitude.  
"He's not on my team." Geralt stated emphatically. He did come here to show Jaskier he was better at bowling.

The teams didn't much matter, the score didn't much matter. Even portioning of sour patch kids seemed to be of most precedence to everyone as they began to play. "Cordelia?" Geralt approached her after lobbing his ball at bit too forcefully, if the alley manager's scowl had anything to say about it.  
"Yes?" She seemed the least on edge he'd seen her since . . . well since he first made eye contact with her.  
"I wanted to thank you for what you did at the bar a while back. It helped." He was waiting for the dread to seep back seeing as he had said a full sentence to her but instead he watching her take a deep sigh of relief.  
"I'm glad." It was that same nice smile as before. "I know I must've seemed like a crazy person, just popping out at you like that. But I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't sure my plan would work. And it did!"  
"But . . ." He saw her smile receded slightly. "I don't get why you did it." Jaskier had said she was attracted to him, which made approaching him sensible. She wasn't playing anymore and maybe found him too tempting to be around, so the leaving somewhat made sense. But getting him a foot in the door so he could enjoy himself, wanting none of it to be directed towards her, that's where she lost him.  
"I . . . you looked unhappy."  
"Not having sex will do that." He shrugged.  
"Right . . . so easy fix, if you could have sex you'd be happier it's not rocket science. I just had to make you approachable and then who wouldn't want to have sex with you!"  
"But what do you get out of it?" She hadn't really answered his question. "And how were you so sure me denying you would make me approachable?"  
"I have the reputation for not setting safe limits. You have a reputation for taking what you want and having disregard for the well being of others. Saying yes to me would feed both narratives, saying no meant something had to give. People would much rather believe that a dashing wolf of a man did have just enough sense to be safe." The alternate would be that Cordelia had put her foot down in some way the ravenous 'wolf of a man' could not oblige, and that suited no one's fantasy.  
"You didn't answer my first question." He smirked slightly, not at her somewhat dreary words but he could see that when he spoke her shoulders would ease. People liked hearing him talk, he did it so rarely it was a bit of a spectacle to behold, and his voice was low and pleasant enough, people responded to it, especially in more intimate moments when it could really seep into the walls and comand a room but Cordelia didn't seem eager to hear his voice so much as she was content just to let it roll over her.  
"What I got out of it?" Her voice sounded calmer, less as if she was rushing out words before his interest fled elsewhere. "Oh. You've never just looked at someone and thought, I wish they were a little happier?"  
"That's it?"  
"Sorry if you were expecting more. I'm sure Jaskier has painted me a lust drunk fool, he tends to think sex drives all. And sure I drooled a bit about you before I said hi, but all in all . . . you seemed unhappy and I thought you deserved to be . . . less unhappy. I could still the drool just long enough for that." So she was capable of normal conversation, when he finally had gotten to her she wasn't some broken down fragile thing, a bit quirky and unsure of herself but who wasn't, at the base of it Cordelia just seemed nice, he didn't really think purely nice people existed anymore.

Jaskier had been right, the environment of a bar that leaned heavily into implied sex had been the root of her skiddishness, they were able to cohabitate the same space. Geralt found himself enjoying this, he hadn't grown talkative and those he didn't know from the bar very much staid that way but he could tolerate social interaction without downing a six pack of beer first. Who knew humans could be so . . . not awful. The only time things got tense was when Cordelia got up to bowl, and it only got tense because she made it tense, made herself a solid piece of steel coated anxiety.  
"No one gives a shit Cordelia, it's not like there's money on the line just bowl." It was meant to be a comforting comment from one of her non bar friends but her shoulders hunched even higher.  
"That's what I'm doing Jarre." Her voice was strung tight.  
"What you're doing is having an existential crisis . . . it's bowling. It's supposed to be fun."  
"Fine!" And she flung the ball, watching it wobble recklessly a few feet before teetering into the gutter. "Fuck." She was taking this far too seriously.  
"It was a pretty gutter ball." Jarre sounded a bit more genuine in his comfort this time. "Points for style."  
"Yup." Cordelia would nod till angrily till someone mercifully changed the subject.

  
"You . . . ok?" Jarre hadn't been great but Geralt had little to no experience on comforting, he wasn't exactly called to do it often.  
"Me?" Cordelia had a toothy smile but it was . . . painful looking. "Yes . . . er I will be. Competition makes me anxious."  
"It's not really a competition. It is . . . just bowling." He did his best to sound . . . soft?  
"Right. I know . . . I do . . . know that. Though you and Jaskier glaring each other into the sun after each frame might speak otherwise."  
"That's just-"  
"I know it's for fun. In the history of bowling the stakes have never been . . . anything. I just . . . I'm weird about things. Don't worry about me. It comes and goes it won't be like this all night." The smile seemed less wrenched by the time she stopped talking.  
"Would it help . . . if I told you what I would do?" She might not play anymore but he knew that some subs enjoyed giving up control because making decisions was something that stressed them. It could translate to a platonic setting . . . possibly . . . no one would die. It was bowling. She seemed to understand his train of thought and didn't scoff at the idea outright.  
"Do you have any qualifications as a bowling instructor?"  
"Do I look like someone who has qualifications as a bowling instructor? I'm what you've got." And he made her laugh which again was just . . . nice. He didn't make people laugh often, granted he didn't try so he didn't exactly have anyone to blame but she seemed to just be a nice exception to all the not so nice boxes he comfortably laid in.  
"Ok."

When it was her turn, he was lazer focused on everything she was doing and she somehow impossibly was doing everything short of holding the ball with her hands, wrong. "I'd stand with a leg back." He watched her move. "Not that far back unless that's . . . comfortable." There was no way that was comfortable. She was . . . gangly and that was saying something for a sport that required so little grace. "I'm going to . . . is it ok if I move your leg?" Wording this out would take centuries and while he had that sort of patience the bowling alley closed at nine. He stood behind her and just waited.  
"Yeah go ahead." And he adjusted her legs to a stance that resembled something of a comfortable human and then just looked at her again.

"So you when you pull your hand back." He paused a moment before he covered hers with his own, pulling her weight against his as they leaned. "You want to stay balanced." And they rehearsed the motion a couple times.  
"Can't stress this enough, bowling not olympic curling Cordelia . . . literally couldn't be less pressure if you were dead." Jarre was growing a bit impatient for his turn.  
"Shut your fucking face they're beautiful." Jaskier began pelting Jarre with loose candies.  
"It's-"  
"So help me god Jarre if you say it's bowling one more time I'll beat you to death with this eight pound ball." Cordelia was getting tense all over again, Geralt could feel all her muscles bunch, and he instincually held at her a bit tighter, and . . . it was nice, he felt nice.  
"Just ignore them." Geralt knew that even at his most even keeled ignoring Jaskier was easier said than done. "You're fine. Just hit two of them to start." And when he backed away and she finally threw it, there was a bit of wobble where it shouldn't have been and it was a slow almost lazy roll but it found it's way to the end of the lane, taking down three pins with it.  
"Ha!" And her body went to jelly, whatever uncalled for stress she was holding just bled from her. Jaskier cheered, then threw another candy into Jarre's ear.  
"Asked for two you gave me three. You're a natural!" Geralt knew what she had meant now, seeing someone unhappy and just wishing they weren't.  
"Look out Lisa Wagner." Iola rolled her eyes.  
"Who?" Jaskier cocked his head. "Is she here? More importantly is she single?" He knew Iola to be the sort of person who would know a famous bowler off the top of her head, but if there was a chance there was a flesh and blood woman he hadn't spoken to within a block of the baskin robbins down the street, it was worth asking.  
"Enough." Cordelia gave a fidgity smile and sat down. "Well Jarre? You've complained enough. It's your turn." She didn't like attention, good or bad. Geralt was beginning to understand Jaskier's earlier tough nut to crack statement.  
"What no one's going to spoon my taint while I bowl?" Jarre was of a similar likeness to Jaskier, bold and a fan of attention, unlike Jaskier he didn't mind much if it was lavishing praise or a heated scowl from a marginally bothered Geralt.  
"Are you ok?" Geralt seemed to find himself engrossed in just keeping Cordelia even.  
"You don't have to keep asking that. I'm fine." She smiled warmly enough, she wasn't snapping at him, but he had seen her smile better.  
"I know . . . You're not the only one that over thinks . . . worries."  
"You worry? What do you have to worry about?"  
"Not about little things." He didn't want to say not bowling, she had meant her threat about beating someone to death and he'd rather it not be him. "I don't get to think about little things often. I . . . a lot of people count on me. So . . . people? I have to worry about people often."  
"Hense the check ins." Cordelia nodded. "People. Like your friends an family?"  
"Everyone cares about friends and family."  
"Are you a doctor or a teacher or something? I don't mean to be nosey."  
"Asking someone their profession isn't nosey." She felt like a bother, a pest, that's how she saw herself, that's why attention of any degree was . . . too much. "Parole officer."  
"That sounds stressful."  
"You are a ball of stress. Everything seems stressful to you."  
"Facts." She shrugged thoughtfuly.  
"Hmm."  
"Do you like it?"  
"Not sure."  
"What do you mean you're not sure."  
"There are days I feel like it's worth the headache . . . and days that nothing anyone does seems to be changing the state of the world."  
"You're trying to change the state of the world? That _is_ stressful."  
"I'm trying to . . . give people a chance? Bites me in the ass . . . a lot. It is not a job that makes you friends, sends you home feeling warm and fuzzy. It can be stressful and it's not for everyone, but like it or not, it's for me."  
"Well the state of the world thanks you."  
"No. It really doesn't."  
"Fine. Then I thank you." There it was, just the warm nice smile.  
"You're welcome." He hadn't thought about it but his hand just went to her hair tussling it slightly.  
"Cordelia what are you doing after bowling?" Jarre had stolen her attention, which left Geralt a bit sour.  
"Forgetting that I went bowling. Probably go to the bar." She shot back quickly, and that soured Geralt a bit further, perhaps she was just nice, just polite, perhaps she had found this tolerable but not enjoyable. He couldn't be near her at the bar, there was practically a barrier between them the second he passed the threshold.  
"You can't fix the vents while people are drinking Cord." And Geralt's teeth ground. He didn't want this to be the first night all over again, her showing a bit of kindness only to pull back and disappear for who knows how long. She didn't play and he could respect that boundary, scratch that itch elsewhere. But he wanted . . . he didn't know what he wanted, but he knew he wanted it from her. She had friends, annoying friends, friends that gave her nicknames, he wanted to be allowed to get that close to her. He could be a better friend than Jarre surely.  
"Geralt?" He hadn't been listening, normally no one noticed when he tuned at the ever too loud world, but Cordelia had.  
"What?" He had gotten riled at some point, like someone was taking something from him.  
"Are you ok?" And she asked it just aloof enough not to nudge at his pride, but with enough concern that it was true to her brand, nice. When was the last time someone asked if he was ok?  
 _'Beren just before asking if I could take some of his case load.'_ Geralt tried to think of a more genuine care for his well being but stopped when he realized he hadn't answered. "I'm fine. Why?"  
"You were . . . I guess like growling a bit?"  
"Growling?"  
"Just a smidge."  
"Sorry." And he let himself wonder why people didn't approach him more?  
"Don't be sorry." And Cordelia had more of that appreciative ease about her. "Just wanted to make sure you're ok."  
"So you're going to the bar?"  
"It's not nearly my bed time so . . . yeah. Are you going?"  
"I'll find a corner away from the vents." And he said that with more bite than he meant, clearly, everyone recoiled at his words. "Sorry."  
"Well . . . that aside. This was fun. We should do this again sometime?" Jaskier broke the ice when it grew unbearable.  
"I could . . . find time." Geralt shrugged.  
"He thinks he's playing hard to get. It's adorable." Jaskier snickered, which elicited Geralt to shove him into the seat behind him.  
"Iola? Cordelia? They're your freaky friends?" Jarre for as perpetually angry as he sounded was fairly easy going, he had to be he was the one man in a house of six women.  
"They're not freaky." Cordelia was quick to correct.  
"I've been in that bar . . . your friends are weird . . . you're weird." Jarre didn't find any part of what they did appealing but this was purely a tease, he was on a first name basis with more people from the bar than some of the regulars themselves.  
"Back. off." Geralt was in Jarre's space.  
"You back off." Jarre gave a firm shove.  
"I swear if I have to call the cops again-" The alley manager started.  
"We're leaving. Come on. I'll fucking treat you to ice cream or something, you're not going back to the bar tonight." Easy going yes, over protective, also yes. Jarre wasn't going to let Geralt just throw his weight around, he wasn't going to pick Cordelia up from the hospital again.

"This went . . ." Jaskier started.  
"I'm going home." Geralt felt, pitted, just an emptiness or all around not right pooling inside him.  
"You were my ride." Jaskier noticed the speed of which Geralt's long legs would carry him.  
"Call an uber!"


	2. Day drinking

After the about a week or so and an apology to Jaskier Geralt was back in the bar. After yet another week Jager Geralt came back to the bar and asked one of those questions better cremated with his bones. "Jaskier?" It started with a familiar pull on his shoulder.  
"Yes Geralt?"  
"Can I ask you a question."  
"You can ask questions without doing shots . . . but yes."  
"She can't have been hiding in the vents for two weeks."  
"That's not a question and it's a weird statement."  
"Hmm."  
"Fine. Fine. I just like seeing how much I can get you to talk before you remember your need to be melancholy. Iola says Jarre and her have been working on quite the bothersome 500 piece puzzle."  
"She's into puzzles?" Geralt honestly didn't know all that much about Cordelia.  
"No one _likes_ puzzles Geralt. People own puzzles."  
"So she's avoiding me?"  
"No. Before she was avoiding you, she was still at the bar every night. Now Jarre is keeping her captive like some princess in a tower."  
"That's a bit much."  
"I'm a bit much." Jaskier did like to romanticise.  
"Hmm." Geralt remembered his need to be melencholy.  
"Iola could probably sneak you in to see her."  
"I'm not breaking into anyone's home. Do you want me to stand under her window with a boom box?"  
"I would love absolutely nothing more than that and no one said breaking, sneaking, there's a difference."  
"I don't like your ideas Jaskier."  
"Really? I quite love them. Iola you think it's a good idea right?" There was a noncommittal hand wag of a response to that. "Tough crowd. Fine tell me all of your stunning heroics and we'll brood together. I'm nothing if not a supportive friend."  
"You're not my friend . . . and I'm a parole officer. Nothing I do is stunning." Jager Geralt was going, going, gone.

Life went on that way for another month or so. Geralt had plenty of other things on his plate, work, making sure Eskel and Lambert didn't murder each other. Finding time to fix all the things around the house Vesemir couldn't fix himself but sure had time to complain about. Nights at the bar, while missing some niceness surely, still had plenty to keep Geralt entertained when such a need arose, or somewhere to hide, when an equal itch needed to be scratched.

It was into mid june when he saw her again. He had been kicked out of **his** house for the day, and his two options were going with Jaskier to a farmers market as he offered often, or sitting in a bdsm bar alone at two in the afternoon on a tuesday, Geralt opted for the later. Someone was in his seat though, he'd already been kicked out of his house, he'd be damned if his seat at the bar was robbed of him too. Was nothing sacred? It wasn't till he had angrily stomped half way to the bar that he had any indication who it was.

"Cordelia?" Marx dropped a wet dish towel over the back of her hoodie.  
"I have twenty two more minutes left of my break Marx." She pressed her cheek firmly into her forearm laying against the bar.  
"Yes but someone who doesn't work here very visibly would like that seat." Marx knew Geralt to see him but not much beyond that.  
"This bar has eighty six viable seats, twelve of which with legs that are even. Are there no other chairs open?"  
"Well you can tell . . . hello!" Marx was nothing if not proficient, he might not have known Geralt, but he knew what he drank.  
"I'll move in a moment." It wasn't worth getting in any type of scuff about.  
"Cordelia?" He watched her head pop up.  
"Geralt?! Oh shit I am in your seat. Sorry I-"  
"Don't waste your twenty minutes getting comfortable somewhere else, you can have it."  
"What brings you here so early?"  
"Lambert is having an ultimate frisbee team meeting at the house."  
"Oh that sounds . . . do douche bags still play ulimate frisbee or have we past that stage?"  
"They started playing ironically so they're douches regardless of the sport's social acceptance."  
"How-" And Cordelia let out a yawn. "Do you know they started playing ironically?"  
"Go back to your nap." She looked tired. "Ok if I sit next to you?"  
"While I nap? That makes me look like kind of a jerk doesn't it?"  
"Takes the pressure off of me holding a conversation and if someone comes in I'll look slightly less depressing."  
"Facts." Anima laid her face back down on her forearm and she closed her eyes.  
"How's the puzzle?" He should have been drinking quietly next to her but her sighs of uncomfortableness were getting awkward.  
"Jarre bought a new one . . . spoiler alert, it's a lighthouse." But the sighs were gone, her shoulders relaxing.  
"You know you don't have to sit at home and do puzzles. If you're not comfortable here, go to another bar."  
"I work here, it'd be like sleeping with enemy. We do other things, it' not just puzzles, it's been fine."  
"But?"  
"But nothing it's been fine." She had homebody tendencies as it was, she didn't recoil from social interactions as aggressively as Geralt but she didn't need them to breath like Jaskier.  
"You don't miss your friends?"  
"I see then outside of the bar. Really I'm fine Geralt. Cross me off the list of people you have to worry about. You've got the whole state of the world remember?"  
"Marx can I have a shot of Jager?"  
"It's two in the afternoon, how does your body allow for that? How old are you?" Her head popped up again.  
"Strong stomach. You want one?"  
"I . . . fuck it pour one in my red bull Marx, I won't have him drink alone. If I hurl you're holding my hair."  
"Hmm." It was that nice feeling again, he felt nice, welcomed even.  
"Can I ask you a question?" The booze did eventually settle in and did it's magic.  
"Mhm." For once that wasn't met with a retort and it left him stumbling.  
"Does Jarre think I'll hurt you?"  
"I think . . . he is worried about a repeat of what happened between Vilge and I. Your chest puffing at the bowling alley didn't help, but I don't think it's personal so much as . . . he knows I can be a pushover. He was elated when I told him I was done playing. I think he saw you . . . saw how I was _around_ you and was worried I'd hop back into something unsafe."  
"Can I ask you a personal question?"  
"Mhm." Again she just eased and waited.  
"Are you . . . not having any sex?"  
"I didn't take a chastity vow Geralt, just I can't trust . . . my ability to trust. I'm not rolling in it as I've heard-"  
"You do know I _know_ . . . how to have regular sex right?"  
"What?" She choked slightly on one of the many ice cubes that fell in her face.  
"Just thought I'd say that. In case you thought I only knew how to have sex in scenes and that's why you consider me off limits."  
"Sure you can . . . but why would you want to?" He was taken a bit back by the question. Why would he want to? He had the option to have the type of sex he did enjoy, why opt for something less? It'd be like opting for a cup of ice cream over a sundae. Still it seemed to be a concession he had already half offered. "To the length of that silence . . . I say exactly." Cordelia didn't seem hurt, she seemed . . . understanding but that for some reason just put that not right feeling back in Geralt's stomach.  
"I . . ." And jager only gave him words for so long, they were swiftly leaving him. "I like your company Cordelia . . . and if I can't have that because of some weird fetish embargo . . . that doesn't make sense to me."  
"I didn't mean to make your life complicated Geralt I . . . if I grow a backbone or you grow a bad mustache perhaps we can make it work." She was trying to earn some sort of chuckle from Geralt but none came.  
"Hmm." He took another sip of his beer. Cordelia's break was over but she continued to talk with him as she swapped out bottles and did something with the lines. She seemed plenty preoccupied with her tasks but would stop if another half sentence struck him. It wasn't mesmerizing, it was just nice, to not have to demand attention so much as just having someone be there and welcoming it when it came. It felt far less of a battle as most conversations tended to be. _'Fuck.'_ Either he'd have to start skipping work to have this . . . whatever it was, it was clearly not romance and too scarce to even be friendship . . . it was a familiar bond of sorts, or he'd have to convince Jarre it was safe for Cordelia to come to the bar when he was around.

"Iola?" She might have answered him but the bar was too deep with bass to hear her hushed tone, but she was looking at him which was . . . something. "I need your brother's number." And she blinked at him for a bit. "Jarre's he's your brother right? I need to talk to him?" Could she not hear him? He was confused.  
"Yeah that's the same ghosting response you'll get if you call him. Who picks up to strange numbers . . . and once he knows it's you. . . please rehearse your swaying voice mail with me" Jaskier filled in the blanks.  
"And what's your bright idea? He's not doing her any good feeding into her worry she can't trust herself." After his own falling out it had really left him, just hating himself. If that's what Cordelia was doing he had to do something to save her from that.  
"You don't like my ideas."  
"Hmm." Geralt did not like Jaskier's idea but the romantic had noticed Geralt had been drinking most of the day and was sure three or four Jagers more Geralt would.

They did not sneak, they were loud, very loud, well Iola was quiet, Jaskier broke two lawn gnomes tripping to the door. "Jarre?!" What part of sneaking involved shouting and knocking on a door was not exactly clear but Geralt could only shove Jaskier in a bush so fast. Jarre did not open the door, Nenne did, Nenne who was a real adult with a real job and chronic lower back pain, she was not amused.  
"Jaskier?! what did I tell you about coming to this house?" Nenne actually was kicking a man while he was down.  
"Ow! Ow not to! I know I'm sorry . . . but it's important it's for my friend."  
"I am not his friend." Geralt's hands shot to the sky.  
"Alright then who are you? At my house? At four in the morning. Drunk and . . . are you bleeding?" He touched his neck. He was pretty sure it wasn't blood, probably residule ketchup from the fries Jaskier demanded they get before he keeled over and died, that had some how gotten onto Geralt because Jaskier's grubby hands got everywhere. So the short answer was, it's not blood. Geralt's short answer was:  
"If it's blood it's not mine." Before sucking it off his finger.  
"Iola get in the house I'm calling the cops!"  
"We're leaving." Jaskier was finally upright, once Geralt finally hoisted him. "Will you just tell Jarre that Geralt will not hurt Cordelia?"  
"No! Who the fuck's Geralt?" Nene was beyond over this. "Off my lawn . . . now!"  
"Fine. Fine. Will you tell Cordelia that Geralt misses her?" Jaskier was trying to sound sweet but all he sounded was whiny and drunk.  
"Who the fuck is Geralt? I've heared his name sighed enough in my house. Who the fuck is he?" Nene shouted.  
"Me." Geralt rose his hand.  
"Good great . . . the vampire."  
"Hmm. I get that some times . . . pale . . .the canines." He was quite litteraly bearing his teeth. "Not a vampire though. I don't . . . miss Cordelia. She is nice though . . . should be allowed out of the house, she's an adult. I wouldn't. . . ." Nene was shoving at Geralt to get him moving, but he was sturdy even shit faced. "I wouldn't let someone hurt her . . . she's too nice for that."  
"You know whose not nice? The drunk tank . . . Go the fuck home!"  
"I'll call us an uber." Jaskier gave a crushed little sigh as he sat on the curb.

"You're sleeping with one of my teamate's sisters." Labert threw a pillow at Geralt's face.  
"Good for her?" Geralt took said pillow and crushed it against his awfully dry eyes, the sunlight was not his friend.  
"Don't you want to know which one?"  
"Does it make any difference?" Geralt wanted the room quiet. He didn't want to ponder how shallow his escapades were.  
"Do you even know the names of the people you sleep with?"  
"Most of the time? I get the street they lived on and the name of their childhood pet too. Why are you in my room?"  
"I'm not. You and your friend destroyed the den."  
"He's not my friend." Geralt groaned on instinct. "Fuck!" Vauge snapshots of the previous night flickered in his head. "Jaskier!" And Geralt stepped on and over his coffee table to get to Jaskier who was asleep on the floor.  
"We are not young anymore." Jaskier if he wasn't bone dry would have wept real tears into the carpet.  
"Jaskier I need to fix this."  
"Be Elsa Geralt! Let it go! You can't fix this. You've met one girl who you can't fuck it happens . . . or so I've heard. Keep on sleeping with your brother's teammate's sister." Jaskier pushed himself upright. "Hello!" Jaskier waved at Lambert, who understandibly noped right out of the room. "You don't even . . . know her Geralt. You just think she's . . .nice."  
"Hmm." Jaskier for the first time in hours had said something of sense. Some people just weren't meant to have nice things, he was one of those people who weren't allowed to know the first thing about nice.


	3. Not normal

Iola didn't even show up the first week after the incident, but she had itches to scratch and no hesitancy about them. Thing of it was there wasn't anywhere else, so slowly but surely she came around again. Geralt didn't ask about Cordelia and Jager Geralt was shelved indefinetly so not even he inquired. Time went along again, things returned to being not nice but normal and Geralt resigned himself to accepting that. His life was not nice, but it also never tended to stay normal for long.

"Guess who?" Geralt was up at the bar getting drinks when a pair of hands cuffed over his eyes. He knew that slightly unsure voice anywhere.  
"By the smell of redbull and vodka I'd have to assume Cordelia" He wasn't as excited to see her again as maybe he thought he should be, he just immediately got that not right feeling settling in his gut.  
"Well it is such a distinct beverage. How many people could you possibly know that drink it."  
"I don't know _any_." And he really needed to learn how to change the inflection of his voice, he had been teasing but he could feel the tenseness in her digits as he pried them from his eyes. "So they let you out of the house." He turned around and while her smile was nice, he had seen it nicer.  
"I'm a full grown adult. I wasn't grounded I was just listening to reason. . . not the point."  
"And the point is?"  
"I'd like to apologize. How I've been treating you isn't fair."  
"And how have you been treating me?" He had never found her to be mean or spiteful just . . . frustrating.  
"Like a myth not a man."  
"Hmm." This sounded more like something Jaskier would say, he was sure somehow the romantic had found a way to meddle.  
"It's not your fault that I'm not playing anymore yet I've been treating you like you were some temptation sent in specificly to tease me of what I can't have. When really you're just a nice guy who maybe wouldn't hate having me as a friend. I made it weird and I'm sorry."  
"I'm not nice."  
"You've been nice to me." Those words were soft and of questionable merit, but he'd take them.  
"Hmm."  
"So do you accept my apology?" Part of him wanted to say no, that he wanted her to earn that apology, prove she was sorry, make it up to him but that was the itch in his skin talking and it was a day with the letter T in it and Cordelia was someone who held his interest on such uninteresting days.  
"My feelings don't get hurt easily." He shrugged. "You won't run from me anymore?"  
"I won't run. Did you want to go back to the table?" She pointed over her shoulder to where Jaskier and the others were.  
"You won't run from me once we get there?"  
"I just said-"  
"Even when Jaskier says something stupid?"  
"What do you think he'll say?"  
"Hmm." Who knew? Surely not Jaskier. He sat up and let his sigh express that sentiment. "Just . . . whatever he says, you're fine ok? We're fine. I accept your apology. I'm just asking you don't run away."  
"Well now you've got me worried."  
"I'll protect you from his stupidity I promise." He placed a hand on her shoulder and began guiding her back to the table.

"Took you two long enough to fuck and make up. Do we have a day count? There was a pool going." For someone who spoke constantly Jaskier by odds alone was bound to find the wrong words . . . frequently.  
"You're fine." Geralt kneaded at Cordelia's tense shoulder, glad when she didn't wrench from his grip and climb into a vent somewhere, she did trust him. "Shut up Jaskier."  
"Rude." Jaskier smirked. "Well are you just going to cast shaddows or are you going to sit?"  
"Hmm." There wasn't room next to his empty space for her to sit, he didn't want her to run from him again but as a newly acquired friend he couldn't just offer his lap for her to sit in.  
"I doubt you'd crush him Cordelia. You could conserve room, use Geralt as a chair no one would be the wiser." Jaskier sure could nudge though.  
"Have it." He'd pull over a chair, they were making this much of an ordeal.  
"Is that normally your seat?" And yet despite his best efforts and a hefty eye roll the ordeal continued. "I know for a fact you're touchy about your seat at the bar." She pointed over, and while the space was comfortably occupied, Geralt's brooding spot at the bar was empty.  
"I like to be consistant" He shrugged as the chair pulled bumpily along the rug, it was a high legged seat and he felt perched and awkward in it, his knees hitting the table.  
"You look uncomfortable." And even her pout was nice, he was certainly still smitten with her which was a gross misplaced feeling for someone like him to have.  
"I always look uncomfortable, I'll live. Sit" He watched her run over more possibilities in her head than there were chairs at the bar. "Please." Finally she relented and shuffled past her friends into a spot at the table. Jaskier drew back the center of attention quickly and things seemed to relax but Cordelia may be nice, but she was never long to be relaxed. From his self imposed high ground he could see it, people staring from other parts of the bar, judging, gossiping no doubt. He didn't really mind, his reputation was as restored as it would ever get but if Cordelia saw, and she had a mind for observation as well as a mind for worry. She'd run, he was sure of it. His sole purpose was to make sure she didn't see them, she didn't worry, didn't feel like she had to run. "Lighthouse going well Cordelia?"  
"Huh?" He had been right, he could hear the distracted tension in her voice.  
"The puzzle? You had a hunch it was a lighthouse?"  
"We lost some pieces . . . now the world will never know." The false tragedy in her voice was funny but the calm in her smile was . . . what Geralt wanted from her. He had figured it out. He calmed no one, he was intimidating strength and iron will. Even in play he was control via force and grit. Because that's what was asked of him, desired of him, people were only pleased, only felt safe with him when he sneered and snarled, that was how he was expected to maintain order. He liked control. He liked having his words and actions to have impact, didn't want to be doubted or second guessed, he didn't want to be ignored or forgotten but he couldn't get what he wanted by being calm. It had to be aggressive, a inch towards menacing. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy that, he'd just have regular sex if he wanted a casual exchange of endorphins but Cordelia responded to his calm and that was peculiar and enticing. She didn't nudge and prod at it. More than that she calmed around him, and he wanted more of that any way she would allow.  
"Geralt you ok?" Jaskier waved a hand in front of his face.  
"Huh?" He had fully gotten lost in thought.  
"Were you meditating or something? Are _you_ going to be weird now? I can only stand so much oddity."  
"No." And he looked to Cordelia's seat to see if she was still alright but she was gone. "Where'd she go?" Had she run when he wasn't looking? Was he not allowed to blink?  
"She's a fast drinker." Jaskier pointed at the bar. Geralt saw her among a group of people he didn't know well and while that not right feeling stirred in his gut it didn't linger, it came and went.  
"Jaskier?"  
"A question for me and you haven't done shots. To what do I owe the occasion?"  
"What was she into before . . . when she did play?" He remembered Jaskier saying Geralt was her type and he now was finally curious what he had meant. Perhaps like in bowling he could transfer it into something platonic, something that would calm her.  
"That's a question for her not for me. I can't say I've had the pleasure."  
"You've had sex with half the tri-state area but not Cordelia?" He found this hard to believe.  
"You seem upset. Which is surprising you don't seem like someone who enjoys sloppy seconds."  
"Doesn't matter." He shrugged, he wasn't a particularly picky or possessive partner. If he was with someone for a steady clip it dented at his ego more than his feelings if they went elsewhere, it was more about the moment than the person. Who came before him was of no consequence so long as everything was done safely.  
"Like I said she's an acquired taste. She doesn't stop stressing . . . ever. She needed a lot of patience, near every time, long past when she was green. I have many virtues, patience is one of my more meager ones. Why do you ask? Are you going to try and convince her to give you a go?"  
"No." He had gone through enough back and forth just to get her to sit and smile at him across the table. That would have to be enough. He could know what nice was but he still couldn't have it.  
"So . . . continue to sit and be miserable then? That's the five year plan?"  
"Not miserable." His face said otherwise as Cordelia rejoined them. "You ok?"  
"Yup." It was one of those angry change the subject nods.  
"You're lying." Geralt's voice grew narrow.  
"I'm good."  
"I can smell a lie a mile away-"  
"I'm sure you can Geralt. It will pass-"  
"How good you are?" He stared at her unflinching and while she didn't crumple inwards like aluminum foil, he could see her grow . . . annoyed which was new.  
"I get anxiety alright? We all know this."  
"Yes."  
"Huh?"  
"It's alright . . . that you get anxiety and I did know that." Sometimes how literal Geralt took words worked to his favor. "Too many people?"  
"Geralt I'm not a child." The annoyance was climbing.  
"Then use your words like an adult."  
"Geralt leave her-"  
"Shut up Jaskier." He hadn't stopped looking at her. "Walk outside with me?" Honestly his knees needed a break, this chair really was uncomfortable.  
"I . . ." Possible answers out numbering chairs ran through her head.  
"Please?" He so rarely used that word, there was so rarely a practical use but saying please seemed to stifle the possibilities so it did have at leat one purpose.  
"Alright." She rushed to finish her drink and stood.

"Do you know what makes you anxious?" He had waited till they were half way down the block. "I'm sure it's more than one thing but is there a . . . theme?" He had seen her fine at points he expected her to cringe and smile painfully in moments that seemed benign, he was not psychiatrist but there had to be layers to it.  
"You do have a detective brain." People.  
"So crowds?" There were people at the bowling alley, the bar, she had been most calm when it was just the two of them.  
"No I'm a quality not quantity kind of girl. I can be comfortable in a mosh pit and uncomfortable at a lunch date."  
"Hmm." He could almost relate. "I could not be comfortable in a mosh pit." Just elbows and sweat, loud noises and no place that was squarely his unless he started throwing fists. "I would murder someone."  
"You do seem to be a fan of personal space." She shrugged but her words put something in his head.  
"Is that why you're walking behind me?"  
"That and you do walk pretty fucking fast." He sometimes forgot his tendency to walk with purpose even if there wasn't any.  
"I can slow down." He stopped. "You can walk next to me." She had been considering his comfort level, something he was used to in scenes but not something he got the luxury of in real life often.  
"I can be in your personal space?"  
"I said next to me I didn't say tie our shoe laces together." He could see how her need of reassurance could tire someone like Jaskier out, he was needy in his own right, and it could become distracting and a bit bothersome to constantly convince someone they were alright. He could also see how easily the wrong person could twist this uncertainty to their favor, maybe not intentionally bully, but negligently guilt her out of knowing her limits. "You believe me when I say things?" It was probably the most abstract question he'd ever asked in his whole life.  
"Not always. I have a habit of . . . thinking people are lying. Not that I think you would lie to be mean . . . people lie to be nice too."  
"I've told you I'm not nice."  
"And I've told you-" Her hand reached out to grab his but she hesitated, placing it against her thigh as they resumed walking. "You've been nice to me."  
"I haven't been mean to you . . . there's a difference."  
"If you say so. I'll take what I can get."  
"Don't."  
"Huh?"  
"Take what you can get. That's what got you in trouble with . . . whatever his name was." He had purposefully forgotten the name of her previous partner, it wasn't jealousy or anger it was . . .well it probably was some mix of those two things but Geralt refused to acknowledge most of his emotions why start now.  
"You don't need to lecture me." It was that defensive annoyance again.  
"I'll lecture facts till you start believing me. How you're living your life isn't working out-"  
"Says Mary fucking Poppins. You have no room to talk. You would have sat in that sad fucking chair till you died. Don't make it sound easy cause it's not. If it's so easy you would have . . ." And she froze, fear and anxiety and whatever other fight or flight stirring feelings, from the top of her head to tips of her toes.  
"You're fine."  
"I'm not fine." She retorted sadly.  
"Nice and not mean are not the same. Neither are fine and good. People say I'm bad at words." He was doing something he had never done before, filling the silence just to fill the silence. "You're right I don't always go after exactly what I want. Some times your not allowed exactly what you want and you make do with what is. Thems the breaks. But I very rarely if ever don't know what I want. You Cordelia, don't know what you want."  
"Right." She didn't sound annoyed, she sounded defeated.  
"That's fine, but that's not good. Here give me your hand."  
"Why?"  
"Your hand." He wasn't annoyed but he was stern.  
"Ok." She held out her hand tentatively. He took it and laced it in his own and started walking again.  
"We shouldn't go back to the bar. Text Iola, so Nenne doesn't think I killed you." And he just kept walking like nothing had happened.  
"Geralt I'm-" She tried to pull her hand back. "This isn't fair, I shouldn't-"  
"I've got two."  
"Huh?"  
"Hands. You wanted to hold my hand, that was something you wanted that you can have. Simple, no one died. I'll need it back eventually." He shrugged. "Are you hungry?"  
"But it's not like we're-"  
"We're not anything and that's fine." Not nice, not good but fine. "I'm hungry and seeing as I'm getting something to eat and you've got my hand I need to know if you're hungry too."  
"I-"  
"Yes or No?"  
"I could . . ." And her mind seemed to settle around for a second. "Yes." So now he knew please wasn't the only way to stop the possibilities.

They actually talked casualy for a good length of time, about work and family, the state of the world, whether or not big foot was real, the important things Once the food came out, it slowed and from there it circled back to serious. "So . . . what do you get out of this Geralt? You're not nice so you're not just spending time with me to make me feel less unhappy."  
"Hmm." He could lie and grumble between bites about not having other plans tonight but he had been warned about how hard to get wore poorly on him. "I like calming you down." He didn't tend to beat around the bush, he hadn't told her before because he hadn't known it before, he knew now, no use in hiding it.  
"I'm glad my anxiety amuses you." She didn't sound offended, almost appreciative.  
"Amuses isn't the right word." He wasn't one to split attention between conversation and food, he barely looked up from his burger.  
"What's the right word?"  
"I don't know. Not my specialty" Intrigued maybe? No that still wasn't right.  
"And that's fine?"  
"It is." He was telegraphing very heavily that while he could talk and eat, he'd rather just eat for a bit.  
"Sorry I'll give you two a moment. Oh shit I still have your hand!" She hadn't even noticed, her shout elicited some stray looks as she let go but her anxiety didn't seem to spike.  
"Thanks." Now he could devour a burger with two hands. "If you want it back just ask."  
"I'd be afraid you'd bite it off." He had not been kidding about being hungry. When finally finished he spoke again.  
"I'd say I don't bite but I'm trying to convince you I'm not a liar." He got her to laugh again and that had made all the talking seem less a chore. "This . . . was nice."  
"It was."  
"I'd like to keep my hand for the rest of the night if it's alright with you. But . . . " He knew exactly what he wanted, but sometimes you can't have what you want, thems the breaks. He knew if he asked if she'd like to do it again anxiety would flux in from some pocket dimension. She'd either give in because she knew that's what he wanted or feel she stressed about what that did or did not make them.  
"If I asked to do this again would you be mad?"  
"Mad?" Why would she think it would anger him? Maybe it was all the chest puffing and growls that had her thinking any emotion he had were just different shades of agitation.  
"You don't seem to like the friends you're saddled with. I get calming me down is . . . something novel for you but you don't-"  
"I would not be mad. Even if you don't need to be calmed down I will never turn down going to eat."  
"Clearly."  
"Is it clear that I don't read minds?"  
"Huh?"  
"You said if you asked . . . you understand that means you have to ask? Not just hope I can look deep into your eyes and read your soul? I'm good at a lot of things. I am not psychic."  
"I understand Geralt, it wouldn't surprise me if you were though you're quite the mysterious man."

Jaskier nearly lept off what was a quite comfy spot on a quite comfy couch when he saw her, she stuck out, her here for work hobo chic really did stand out. "Cordelia?!"  
"Hi Jaskier. Can't talk now." That had never stopped him once, not ever.  
"It's a friday!"  
"It's a busy friday Jaskier. Holiday weekend, people from far off lands!" She wiggled her fingers at him. "Marx is backed up, he can't restock, the lager's running flat so . . . gotta fix that. There may or may not be a mouse somewhere. . . that I should have caught with. . . I don't know precognitive magic! I can ask my friends to understand my boundries . . . not my boss. I can't talk right now." She was tunneling her focus on tasks. That was easy, that was better, that let her not think about how long it had been since she'd been in the bar when it was so . . . full of sex she could not have.  
"Are you wondering where Geralt is?" Jaskier was feeling well good on himself, riding a nice little haze of earlier enjoyment which had him a bit more of a mischievous nudge.  
"I have a pretty good idea where Geralt is. There's two sections of the place where sex is allowed and four bathrooms where people just blatently ignore signage. So I've got a one in six shot and he'd be a tight squeeze in a stall." She tried not to think about it because separating Geralt from the idea of the sex she wasn't having had been a herculean feet. It had been worth it though, she really did just wholeheartedly enjoy being around him and that hadn't wained over weeks. They had nestled into quite a comfortable. . . it wasn't a friendship, it was something a bit better than that. He made her slightly less anxious, she had him slightly less unhappy, it was good. She didn't want anything to change.  
"Aren't you a little bit curious?" Jaskier wanted something to change, he had never wanted a coupling that didn't involve himself since his very first erection but he wanted Geralt and Cordelia . . . even if it was a mess, an absolute trainwreck it had to happen.  
"Of what Geralt looks like having sex? If I had to figure just as breathtaking as he does when he does anything else Jaskier. Leave me alone!" She slammed one case of beer on another and walked to the far end of the bar. Jaskier had seen this before, Cordelia get bothered and standoffish when something hit a bit too close to home. He had seen Geralt meet her at that point confront her with it. And Geralt was a jerk! He on the other hand was compassionate soft and understanding, if Geralt could get Cordelia to let down her walls so could he.  
"It wouldn't hurt to peek. He's in the public room so it's not like he's adverse to voyeurs."  
"You have no idea how much it would hurt to peek Jaskier. Please stop." Every word of Jaskier's sentence tore at her like razor wire but he didn't see it. She was focused so her face didn't turn dread filled and wide eyed, just was off counting miller lites like it was her job . . .which it was.  
"Fine. I'm just saying Geralt will be devistated to hear you stopped by and weren't even remotely interested in his goings on. He's a man you know, he tries to blend in with the furniture but he likes attention too." Jaskier couldn't have known the effect his exaggeration would have on Cordelia's anxiety. She wasn't like Geralt she could normally read beyond face value but it was as if Jaskier was strumming at her insecurities, playing long sorrowful catchy notes in her head.  
"I have to do my job Jaskier . . . If he's still at it later-"  
"He will be." Jaskier saw this as a good sign.  
"I'll peek Jaskier ok?"  
"That's all I ask." He figured she would see Geralt and any memories of Vilge would melt away, she would see Geralt and want him, just as Geralt had slowly and unethusiasticly conceded to Jaskier. They were so close to something wonderful they should have it, easy.

It was fine, this wasn't ideal, or atleast not his picture of ideal but that was mostly because he wasn't a fan of backseat drivers and Vedal's dom just couldn't shut the fuck up for one blessed moment. It wasn't the degrading words directed at the woman beneath him, the words seemed to be most of it for Vedal and she was welcome to her fantasy. He let her have all the humiliating jabs of how shameless, how much of a whore she she was. He didn't grumble over the questions of if she liked how everyone was looking at him fuck her. It was the words directed at _him_ , the small directions of more and better, harder and good that while not ruining anything, was something he could do without, something he that elicited a bit of a disapproving growl. He didn't like being told what to do. He could tunnel in on what he enjoyed though. He had her, had control of the moment, it wouldn't be stolen from him, no outside variable was beyond his control for just this measure of time. Big things, little things. Whatever part of her body he was on or in, it was his choice where the focus of energy was. Her arms were bound behind her, he had her trust and he could keep her, moaning and writhing, squealing as his teeth sunk into her shoulder as long as it lasted, and she trusted him to know that too. Her focus wasn't as on him as it'd be ideally, but he had her body's full attention. He heard the backseat driver tell him to pull her face up so everyone could see her, which took him out of the moment a bit. It was getting to him, he didn't really like being told what to do, as if what was doing wasn't enough, or was the wrong choice. But he could see Vedal's head start to lift eagerly so Geralt did his best to tunnel back in, gripping her hair roughly and stretching her neck just to the point before her moans would shift sounds. He didn't want anything else to change. But absolutely everything changed. Air was sucked out the room by snide gasps, and at first he wasn't sure why, he was still very focused. "Vedal?"  
"Don't stop. Please." And that's all that really mattered, so while half out of the moment he continued till they were finished. Only after sitting with Vedal and her very mouthy dom for a few minutes did his vision expand past where he was planted. He caught her only at a side glance at first but that's all it took.

"Cordelia." She looked absolutely mortified, if her eyes were any wider they would have taken off into space. He felt angry, that wasn't fair. For her to look at him with fear, like he was some sort of sick monster. That scene had been under his fought for control but now he was absolutely out of it, just plummeting. Who was she to so quickly judge, his character, his preferences, his reasoning. He stood and got dressed before approaching her, before boxing her against the wall. "I don't need to explain myself to you." His voice was still and a bit dark. Was she upset that he was doing this in the first place? Had it gotten twisted in her mind that he should be denying himself? That he should be content with their shared time and the enjoyment he got from that would somehow nullify the itch? He wasn't the one who couldn't trust himself. He wasn't bound to her. He had been fine to respect her boundries and not ask for what he wanted from her. How could she not respect that it was still a part of him, still something he had to have an outlet for?  
"No. No you don't Geralt." She sounded so, legitimately frightened and that just angered him more. Did she think he'd play the same way with her? Just take her at some point? Had she believed the rumors that he was self serving, cold and brutal? Just chasing his wants despite the whims of others?  
"Some people know what they want." That had meant to be clarifying of the give and take that scenes were. It sounded that way to him.  
"I'm glad." Her smile wrinkled her whole face. "I want you to be happy Geralt. And I can't read minds but I think you'd be happier if I wasn't here. I . . . there's a mouse that's not . . . I'm not running away I have a job to do. Thanks for the tour Jaskier." And Cordelia left.

"Geralt I-"  
"Why would you bring her here?!"  
"She was already here . . . for the mouse and-"  
"Is this all one big game to you? Are you getting off on torturing us?"  
"Torturing? Geralt that's not far I have only tried being your friend which in-"  
"I never asked you to be my friend! The bowling alley, Nenne's lawn . . . now this. You've been humiliating me right in front of my face and I've-" He never wanted the satisfying feeling of plaster between his knuckles more than in that moment but he really couldn't afford to drive a city over to scratch an itch and rebuild a reputation so he just closed his eyes and ground his teeth.  
"You don't have to hulk out. I'll leave. I'm . . . it was nice . . . " Jaskier was at a loss for words. "Enjoy the rest of your night Geralt." And for the first night since Cordelia said hello to him, he had silence, he was alone.


	4. House party

"No thanks."  
"Why not?" Lambert had blocked the doorway to kitchen like the mature adult he was and Geralt was contemplating tackeling him out of in a show of equal maturity.  
"Because that sounds terrible." Geralt was conciderate of other people's feelings but his family didn't count, they weren't really people.  
"All I said was my friends are throwing a house party and you should come."  
"I know you're an idiot but I don't see where you're getting confused." What part of that could possibly appeal to Geralt?  
"You just work and sleep Geralt. I know my friends aren't your club kids or whatever but you must've fucked something up with them cause-"  
"That's none of your business and I'm fine."  
"You need to talk to . . . Is leaving the house and drinking with me really the worst thing you can imagine?"  
"Yes."  
"You've been shot at before!"  
"I've been hit by a bullet before, more than once. What's your point? Are you threatening to shoot me? Move Lambert." While not a tackle, Geralt did finally shove his way into the kitchen.  
"Worse."  
"Worse than shooting me or worse than your party?" Geralt didn't like the cocky grin on his brother's face.  
"I'm threatening to tell Vesemir that I've noticed the foundation's sagging in the basement. Or you can stop being a hermit and go out with me." It was an interesting threat Geralt would give him that. They both knew Vesemir wouldn't demand Geralt buldoze his home and literaly rebuild it from it's foundation up, but Vesemir would casually lament about it and complain under his breath until his last one came which wouldn't be for . . . Geralt had to decide if he wanted that for the rest of his natural life, to be engraved on his tomb stone. 'Here lies Geralt, I'm sure he would've gotten to the foundation eventually.'  
"Fuck."

This house seemed vaugely familiar. Had he been here before? Lambert did say Geralt had been fucking his teammate's sister and seeing as he hadn't been to the bar since his whole blow out he had been making house calls recently. Geralt didn't embarass easily and he was not ashamed of what he did so if that was the case so be it. He didn't think on it much beyond the quick observation.

Inside was . . . exactly what he expected. An ocean of bros just finding unique yet uniform ways to be immediately grating. There were women there as well though oddly they were either all too young or all too old to be at this party, not a single one seemed to be of the appropriate age bracket. Then again how old was he and he was sharing the space with someone actively trying to balance on a hover board. His life had taken a dark turn somewhere. "Where are you going?" Lambert watched as Geralt walked with purpose.  
"Bathroom." He was taking two stairs at a time.  
"Real mature. You going to hide there?"  
"Or drown myself. Depends on how long this song is." Geralt grimaced on his way up.

He had nearly made it to the neautral ground that was the bathroom when he heard it over the merciful end to whatever song had been sucking his will to live right out of him. "Geralt?"  
_'Fuck!'_ He stopped and returned to the door he had stomped past, he shouldn't have opened it the rest of the way but he had a tendency of doing things he shouldn't because his 'detective brain' got ahead of him.  
"Cordelia? What are you doing here?" She was laying in bed and if his hearing was as good as he gloated it to be she was watching porn on a laptop, the moment really didn't need to be elaborated on. But for a split second he looked over and half expected Jaskier to pounce out and shout gotcha!  
"Geralt you know that I live here." She slammed the laptop shut.  
"How would I have known that?"  
"Because . . . you've been here before?" He must have shown his lack of recognition on his face. "Do you black out often? Just huge chunks of your nights gone? You broke my garden gnomes remember?"  
"Jaskier broke the . . . you collect gnomes?" He should have grunted a hello and moved on, time had not made him less angry with how things had turned out but as it pained him to admit Lambert might have been right. Perhaps just working and sleeping had left him needing the mental stimulation of a conversation and Cordelia always was just . . . easy to talk to.  
"I collect knick knacks. I like flea markets. Sometimes it's gnomes . . . or dream catchers-" She pointed to her wall. "Or nine bottle openers for a dollar."  
"When you say flea market do you mean farmers market?"  
"I mean flea market, you hung out with Jaskier too long. A guy selling loose oranges out his trunk does not a farmers market make."  
"Hmm." So his hunch was right Jaskier had been meddling from all angels.  
"So unless you've come here to ask me where you can get your own stuffed unicorn." She nodded over at the far corner of the room at what he assumed to be deliberately the most horrifying stuffed animal in existence before speaking again. "I have to ask what are _you_ doing here?"  
"Hate to have to tell you . . . but I think Jarre plays ultimate frisbee."  
"That is upsetting news." She gave a bit of an awkward chuckle. "So this is who you hang out with now? Stark change from Jaskier. You haven't been at the bar."  
"You have?" It didn't matter, he shouldn't care. Their paths kept crossing but it wasn't destiny like Jaskier wanted it to be, it was Geralt's bad luck.  
"On my nights." She shrugged and the silence grew long. She started to get that tense toothy smile about her and while part of him wanted to say she was fine, the other part warned him not to get involved. "I really had been there for the mouse. I wasn't . . . stalking you or anything. I shouldn't have looked."  
"But you did." He did his best to keep his anger in the back of his throat but some creaked past.  
"I did and I'm sorry." Her shoulders were rising with each word. He was still angry with her but just seeing her uneven made things worse not better.  
"Listen I . . . Can I come in?" He stepped one foot in her door then three out.  
"Yes."  
"I want to be very clear. I'm not sorry for what I did but I am . . . sorry if seeing it upset you or you felt mislead." It wasn't an olive branch, it was tying up loose ends he convinced himself.  
"I'm not upset with what you did and I don't feel mislead you don't have to be sorry." Her smile had a distant trail of niceness to it.  
"You weren't upset?" Every fiber of his being oozed skeptisism. She had to start working on her faces, there was no way she looked at him that night in anxious lust misinterpreted as fear, that look had been murder of a loved one anguish and horror.  
"Right you can smell a lie a mile away. I was . . . upset but not . . . the way you think. . . I . . . don't play anymore Geralt but it doesn't mean I don't understand what scenes are . . . or appreciate that people have different tastes. Did you think I was looking down at you? I'm glad you're able to get what you want."  
"Hmm." The second he assumed she thought the worst of him he had been determined to do the same. "I should . . . leave." And he started for the door again but that not right feeling shot from his gut, and began to shake at his chest. "You . . ." He turned and saw a face that wasn't angry or hurt, it wasn't even anxious, she seemed to have a resigned understanding about her that bothered him more somehow. "Don't have to tell me but . . . what were you upset about?"  
"I don't think you have that kind of time Geralt . . . everything. I shouldn't have been in that room. Everything I'd been avoiding for months hit me all at once. Memories that I hadn't delt with came back, I was reminded of the pressure I feel in scenes, I . . . was hit with the confirmation that even if did play I couldn't do it with you and that . . . stung harder than I had any right to let it. So . . .I know my anxiety used to amuse you but I doubt you want to unpack all that. Just please don't think I was upset with you? Maybe you're not nice but I never saw you as mean either. If and when you want . . . the bar will be there, I'll leave you alone. Jaskier . . . misses you. He blames himself . . .and you . . . and me . . . he's talked about at length. He's heartbroken without his best friend."  
"He's always heartbroken." Geralt was only half listening as he tried to breakdown what he had just heard, tried to form what his next action would be. "Can I sit on your bed?" He felt a need to be closer.  
"Leaving is the other way Geralt."  
"Please?" He'd only ask once, if he saw the possibilities fly in her head he'd turn on his heels and go.  
"Yes." And while he did sit he didn't speak for a long time, he didn't even look at her but at no point did she poke and prod for urgency.  
"Do you have anyone to talk to . . . about how you feel?"  
"I have friends Geralt."  
"That's not what I asked. Do you talk to anyone . . . about how you feel?"  
"Do you?"  
"So that's a no." He nodded as he let that sink in. "Do you want to be unhappy forever?"  
"D-"  
"Cordelia?" He had to keep them both focused, she got flighty at the first sign of real prying.  
"I'm not unhappy."  
"A happy person doesn't have Nam flashbacks when they walk in on their friend having sex."  
"That was a lapse in-"  
"I've got time." And he laid back against her bed.  
"Huh?"  
"To unpack what happened . . . Lambert will be drinking till dawn . . . I'm trapped here till sunrise. I'd prefer being trapped up here unpacking this . . . then whatever devil worship is going on downstairs." The music really was . . . awful. "Do you miss it? Playing?"  
"I do."  
"I know that you don't think you can . . . with me but . . . you trust me right?"  
"I do." She was calming down, her answers started to lose their panicked undertones.  
"I wouldn't let someone hurt you. Would you feel more confident if I were in the room? If you don't trust yourself not to . . . stop when you should. You could trust me to." His words were slow and absolutely neutral.  
"Leave work at work. You don't need to be my parole officer." The both shared a barely forced smile.  
"We'll come back to that then. What pressure did you feel in scenes? Like you're not doing enough? You're doing something wrong?"  
"I . . . she was very talkative and responsive, Vedal. I can't-"  
"I wasn't talking about Vedal I was talking about you." He couldn't really recall the last time he blinked, but he was trying to hold her focus. "So you're not talkative so what?" She was responsive, he knew it, maybe other people didn't see it but there was no doubt in his mind, her body moved with every thought that went through her head.  
"People want that."  
"Most people sure. So what? If talking takes you out of it don't talk. If your partner needs that, you're not the partner for them, happens."  
"Sounds selfish. It should be-"  
"No one is going to pander to all of your wants and you should be willing to give others what they want even if doesn't drive you crazy . . . but not if it makes you uncomfortable. There's compromise and then there caving. There's a difference. Sound a little less selfish?"  
"Geralt?"  
"Hmm?" He knew he was lecturing but he thought maybe she needed to hear someone's view on things that weren't the voices in the back of her head or her friends that made things seem effortless.  
"Can I have your hand?"  
"No." His tone didn't change, he didn't sit up he just let that word fill the room. "Do you hate me?"  
"No. I understand things are-"  
"Did I burst into flames?"  
"Huh?"  
"Did I die?"  
"Geralt I do not think telling someone-"  
"Yes or No?"  
"No."  
"Simple." He shrugged. "Simple doesn't mean easy. . . just not complicated. I'm simple." He found himself filling the silence again. "Let me see it."  
"What?"  
"Your hand." And it hovered tentatively over his chest, he reached out and let his fingers slot between hers. "I was just proving a point. If you want it you can have it. I don't back out from an offer. Have you thought about it? About what you want?"  
"Not really?"  
"Hmm." And he could feel her hand curl away from him but he gripped firmer. "What were you watching?" And his voice staid calm, his eyes staid off of her.  
"Stuff." And he could he could hear the blush in her voice and for a moment he was unsure if he wanted more or less of it.  
"Can I look?" And he knew the possibilities flying through her head. "Yes or no?"  
"No?" At this he finally sat up on his elbows and looked at her.  
"That's fine." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  
"But not good?"  
"I would have preferred you said yes. I don't ask questions I don't want answers to. I am interested."  
"In what porn I watch?"  
"In what you like. So I'm disappointed, but I'm not angry." He laid his head back to the mattress and was quiet for a moment. "I'd like to ask you something but you don't have to answer if you don't want to." He waited a moment more. "Alright?"  
"Yes."  
"Did your previous partner get angry" Cordelia didn't get a chance to answer. Call it destiny, call it Geralt's bad luck or it by it's name: Vilge.  
"Cordelia?" It was a hushed shout but it ran through Cordelia like lightning, she was standing, rigid as a board, her shorts laying lopsided on her hips.  
"Did you know he was here? Hide in the closet!"  
"I'm not hiding in the closet." He watched as she slammed the door shut, running both hands through her hair. "Do you two still sleep together?" It was none of his business but he needed to know, half to get a beat on how the next few minutes would go and half to gauge how far he'd have to press down this not right feeling in his gut.  
"Cordelia?" And he saw her body jolt under the second call from what was now the top of the stairs.  
"I . . . we did . . . a couple times after . . . not in months. Where's my phone . . . Geralt please . . . Hide somewhere! Have you seen my phone?" Her brain and mouth weren't connecting correctly. The bowling alley and the bar had nothing on her face in this moment, she looked like she might legitimately pass out any second.  
"Cordelia I'm not hiding in your closet. We were just talking . . . if he gets that upset-"  
"Please?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and clutched at him tight. He places a hand at her back, lifting her as he walked them over to the bed and yanked the covers off, shaking them till something hit the floor with a thud.  
"Your phone."  
"Detective brain." She let go of him and snatched it up, sitting on the floor she began tapping feverishly at keys.  
"Who are you . . . texting?" She wasn't calling 911 so that was good. He'd really rather not get in some sort of domestic dispute. There was a knock at the door and she jolted again. Geralt did not hide in the closet, he still had his pride, but he did lean back against it's door. His attention split between Cordelia whose nose was nearly in her phone screen, the door that still had a knock to it, and the stuffed unicorn next to him that he was fairly sure was judging him for past sins.  
"Cordelia?" The voice that had to be Vilge's didn't sound all that angry, a bit baggering maybe but it wasn't hot with rage. "You haven't answered my calls. You shouldn't just ignore people. People will stop talking to you again."  
"That's because I don't want to talk to you Vilge." She stated loudly but not surely.  
"That's not fair Cordelia. It's fucking rude" And at this Cordelia's face scrunched in contemplation, a hand running through her hair again tugging at the root.  
"Vilge get out of my house."  
"I came all the way here to see you Cordelia, you owe it to me to at least open the fucking door." Yes his words were a bit demanding, a bit agitated but nothing hostile or threatening.  
"Cordelia you don't owe anyone anything." Geralt was still leaned heavy against the closet, he hadn't moved.  
"Are you in there with someone? Cordelia if you're fucking someone else-"  
"How did you get in here Vilge? You knew there was a party and snuck in? If you have to sneak in that's a good sign you're not wanted. Take a hint!" Cordelia was breathing like a person trying to remember how. "Go away. Please. Just everyone leave me alone. I want to be alone." Her eyes clenched shut.  
"You want me to shout at your door? I'm trying to be civil and fix this but you're being a child."  
"Cordelia can you breathe?" Geralt didn't like being religated to a corner but she had said please, she had wanted space and he was trying to give that to her.  
"No."  
"Try?"  
"It's that white haired slut. Cordelia you're not thinking, You heard what he did."  
"Cordelia just ignore him you're fine." Words didn't bother him, he got called plenty, at work, at home, in play, words were just noise except clearly not to Cordelia. "Are you breathing?"  
"Vilge you aren't exactly a white knight. Why are you here? What do you want? Well dry up again? Just tell me why are you here? You only-" She was getting stuck and Geralt was being forgotten and neither was taking it well.  
"Cordelia I asked if you were breathing." Geralt was out of the corner, walking past, back to her, staring at the door.  
"Geralt just leave me alone. I-"  
"Yes or no?"  
"I'm trying."  
"Hmm. Count them for me? Your breaths, slow them down and just count." He wanted her calm and her attention squarely on him.  
"One." It was a rattling dramatic inhale. "Two. Three-"  
"You're doing good Cordelia."  
"Why is he allowed in there but not me? He'll fucking mangle you. I know I messed up but you're not good at-"  
"Ignore him. Keep counting." Geralt saw the door handle begin to turn, he grabbed it, holding it in place, pushing his palm into the door, letting his firmness keep it shut.  
"Whose there? I was right wasn't I? You're that mute from up north aren't-"  
"Geralt?" There was a new voice in the hallway.

"Whose that?" Cordelia sounded a little less panicked but not much, she was by no means calm.  
"Cordelia what did I say to do?"  
"Count my breaths. I am but-"  
" _Just_ count your breaths. Just means only . . . simple. You can't just do one thing and focus on another."  
"Forty, forty one-"  
"Start over. " This was not playing, not even close but calm wasn't something he gave others often, he'd have to lean on what he did know.  
"One, two-"

  
"Who the fuck are you? Geralt? You fall in?" That additional voice was Lambert.  
_'Fuck.'_ Geralt knew this would only escalate.  
"He won't open the door he's in there with Cordelia." Vilge started to bang on the wood and that got Geralt's teeth grinding.  
"I don't know who the fuck _that_ is but if he doesn't want to open the door he probably has a good reason. A reason that's not your business." Lambert sounded ready for a fight, itching for one, this was not good.  
"Fourteen. . . fifteen-" Geralt could hear Cordelia's focus start to falter again and he was losing patience, not with her but these outside variables he couldn't quiet.  
"Vilge you slippery fuck! Get the hell out of my house! Stay away from her." Jarre was stomping up the stairs, just another voice to the mix. Geralt's own breath was growing short, he was surely growling again. He felt not too disimilar to when he lashed out in Blaviken. Just people he didn't expect, people who were trying to rip the reigns out of his hands, chaos while not life threatening, while for the whims of others, that he had not signed up for. He heard someone, it was a toss up, his hot headed brother or Cordelia's protective roommate run up and punch Vilge in the side of the head if he had to guess. He went to leave the room to break up the fight but he was stopped.

"Geralt?"  
"Your breathing sounds better Cordelia. You're fine I promise." He couldn't exactly blame her for getting distracted, he had failed in keeping the space safe and controlled, it wasn't her fault.  
"Please stay?"  
"Hmm. . . Fine." He let go of the door handle, if the fight came to him he'd allow it but even if he was out of control, Cordelia still had a need for him.  
"Geralt?"  
"Yes?" It sounded like a pretty sad fight, not a lot of blows, just a lot of bumping, rolling and drunk breathing. More like a sloppy orgy of egos than a brawl.  
"You're growling again." She confirmed his earlier asumption.  
"I'm fine Cordelia." He turned around and looked at her, she was staring a hole into the ground. "Look at me." He saw her face rise, her eyes were red, she was blinking stray tears.  
"You're angry." Her throat was tight.  
"Not at you. Can I sit? I'll just start pacing if I keep standing like this."  
"Yes." He sat infront of her, it was calming the fight in him, the way she was holding his gaze. "I wonder what your hair feels like Cordelia. I want to reach out and take it. I want your focus Cordelia." He hadn't been a liar, he was not avassive of his wants when they hit him. "Can I touch you?"  
"Yes." She didn't sound calm but she did sound confident. His hand was deep in her hair in seconds, bunching into a hearty fist, he watched her eyes still holding on him, widen a bit as he tugged. It wasn't a groan just a resetting of air as she took the strain. He leaned his forehead against hers as his thumb stroked at her scalp. Her breathing evened out slowly.  
"Good. You're doing good Cordelia." He saw her eyes start to flutter closed but his hand tightened further causing them to spark open.  
"Ask first." She could close her eyes, she was dropping down, but he had been riled too, he needed to know he still had some control, still had her attention.  
"Can I kiss you?" That wasn't what he expected and he wasn't sure that it was what's fair. She had made it abundently clear ahe didn't trust herself to have him. This may have been the fear talking, maybe she just wanted to feel safe and he didn't want to warp her real life need for protection into affection for him.  
"Close your eyes." He went with his response to the question he had been expecting. She did with ease, with just that welcoming acceptance he found so alluring in her. "Good. Count back-" Someone was tumbling down the stairs. For a moment he thought to call out to Lambert, but his brother could more than handle himself. "Just back from ten. Everything's fine."  
"Ten, Nine, eight-"  
"Slow. You're good I've got you."  
"From the beginning?"  
"Just keep going." It didn't have to be perfect, nothing about this was perfect.  
"Seven. Six. Five-"  
"Geralt?" Well Lambert was alive, but Jarre might die of sheer shock.  
"Geralt?! What the fuck is going on? Greatest hits of assholes?"  
"Lambert hold the door. You're fine. They'll wait." Geralt's hold in her hair got lighter with each number.  
"Four. Three. Two. One."  
"Can you open your eyes?" And they were wide, completely focused on him and they were calm as such a rushed moment would allow. "How do you feel?"  
"I don't know. We should probably-"  
"Are you still scared?"  
"A little . . . Yes."  
"I won't kiss you right now. Because you're scared, not because I don't want to." Words were like steps to her, they all moved with purpose.  
"I'm not scared of you."  
"I didn't say you were." He couldn't help it, that phrase made the spiraling winds in his chest slow. "I'm going to stand up and let Jarre yell at me now ok?" He was calm, he was centered again.  
"Jarre?!" Cordelia stood not in fright so much as recognition. "Jarre?" She ran over to the door.  
"Cord are you alright? What happened? I'm sorry I didn't get your text right away I was-"  
"You were having a party Jarre I get it. I'm fine. I'm going to open the door but Geralt's in here." And the fact that Cordelia had texted Jarre both made sense and bothered Geralt, she hadn't trusted him with the situation.  
"Yeah we fucking got that. Why is he in there? Did you invite him in?"  
"He doesn't just barge into bitches rooms. I don't apreciate-" Lambert was cut off by the creak of the door.  
"In other words . . . yes I did invite him in." Cordelia smiled over Lambert's shoulder.  
"Move." Jarre gave Lambert a shove. "How'd . . . what the fuck happened? Why was Vilge here?"  
"He wanted to talk I think."  
"Sure he did. You should get a restraining order Cordelia. Dude isn't taking a hint. Did you invite him?" Jarre gave an acusitory glare, he seemed incapable of believing Geralt didn't have a hand in this.  
"No." Geralt knew he shouldn't ask but his detective brain was at it again. "Why would I invite him? I didn't even know Cordelia was here till I-"  
"Because people like you get off on breaking people down."  
"People like me?" Words didn't bother Geralt it didn't mean he'd just take a lashing for kicks. "Isn't Iola a person like me?" He figured Jarre was talking about dominants. "Nenne has been to the bar she's sometimes a person like me I don't see you keeping Cordelia-"  
"The people who . . . you're just muscle . . . you just hurt-"  
"I don't hurt anyone." He wasn't about to give Jarre a dissertation on what he believed to be the difference between hurt and pain. "I wouldn't hurt Cordelia."  
"No I get it you think what you're doing is harmless and good fun and . . . You fuckers don't know your own strength. What it takes out of her. You just fuck her and bounce. You know who has to take care of her when she comes home? When something goes wrong?"  
"You?" Geralt took an educated guess.  
"She's just not cut out for your games. What you do is fine . . . and I get that Cordelia gets her kicks from it, but just not with people like you. She needs someone who won't break her."  
"Hmm." So it was how he looked that gave Jarre concern? That wasn't something all together new. Or even entirely invalid. He did not look gentle, he did not play gentle . . . but he never hurt anyone. "Cordelia?"  
"Yes?"  
"Jarre wants me to leave and honestly I didn't want to be at this party in the first place. I just need to know if you're alright first."  
"Sure big show now that I-" Jarre started.  
"If I leave will you be good?" And she didn't answer right away, it was the possibilities of it all running through her head again. "I have nowhere to be if you need me to stay. I need an answer."  
"I'll be alright but . . ." Her words just stalled out. "I'll be fine Geralt. Thank you."  
"But what?"  
"Can . . . you stay for a couple minutes?" Those words seemed unsure, scared.  
"Yes." He staid even, sitting on the edge of her bed. "You can stand in the doorway and glare. Or you can try to move me Jarre It doesn't bother me but I don't want to fight you." The chest puffing from the bowling alley had been a mistake that would haunt him. He had to be firm but not pouncing.  
"Cordelia I don't think this is a good idea." Jarre didn't run in and try to pull Geralt out by his ear which was a good sign.  
"He's not . . . Geralt we don't have to take this. Come on." Lambert gave a snort, he didn't have half a clue what was going on but this wasn't the first time's Geralt's dick had gotten him in more trouble than it was clearly worth. But Geralt hadn't before and didn't now see it that way.  
"Go play beer pong or . . . take a piss Lambert I'll call an uber when I want to leave." Geralt wasn't moving.  
"Whatever." Lambert was not one to linger with concern. He'd tried, that was enough, he turned for the stairs.  
"Cordelia I-"  
"Jarre are there still-"  
"Oreos in the cubbord? Yeah no one touched your oreos." Jarre grumbled, he knew he was being sent away after a poorly veiled diversion. "If anything fucking happens . . ." But Jarre's stamina was depleted too. "I'll bring you up some oreos ok? You need anything else?"  
"No." And Geralt watched this interaction with scrutiny, he gathered a few pieces of information from this, all were useful, all were tucked away in the back of his head for future use.

"You wanted me to hide from Jarre not Vilge." He stated once the hallway cleared.  
"I knew he wouldn't be happy to see you and you've been very patient with me I didn't want him to yell at you."  
"Hmm." He had been backed up in a fight from time to time but he wasn't sure anyone had tried to protect his feelings before. "I'm fine. Sit next to me?" He waited till she was at his side. "Can I touch you?" It didn't feel nearly as awkward as it should have, using practices from play and after care to triverse this situation. He just didn't know what she wanted or needed, and that could be dangerous. Some people did not want to be touched, especially after things went wrong and as he stated he did not want to hurt her.  
"Mhm." He let his hand rest on the back of Cordelia's neck. "Are _you_ alright Geralt? This has been quite the Cordelia show."  
"It has." He nodded as his fingers traced shapes on her skin. "I must really want you to put up with all this bullshit." And while he was expecting her to tense at the attention he was glad it was just a slight tightness not another jolt of pure anxiety. "I can't have you exactly the way I'd want you, that's fine. I will continue to get that elsewhere. But I still want you . . . I'd like to be someone . . . in your life." He knew she preferred yes or no questions of a straightforward variety but he couldn't twist this into something simple.  
"You didn't answer my question Geralt. Are you alright?"  
"I wasn't . . . for a minute there. I did not enjoy how I felt Cordelia. I don't want to feel that way again."  
"How did you feel?"  
"Like we were under attack."  
"Would oreos help? They make me feel better."  
"Hmm. Too many different styles though."  
"Huh?"  
"I go grocery shopping on thursdays I'd pick you up some oreos to replace that package I'll end up destroying. Sounds like those cookies are your comfort stash. but I wouldn't know what kind to get. You could come with me, pick them out."  
"Is that your way of asking me on a date?"  
"Who said anything about a date?" He watched her simply die inside for a moment. "It was a joke." He didn't want Jarre to come back to Cordelia's petrified corpse, he could talk his way out of a lot of things, not that.  
"You are not funny."  
"I'm not." He nodded. He was not a lot of things but Cordelia never tended to lament over that.  
"Grocery shopping first. You can bring Iola and Jaskier, if that will keep your house mates from nagging. Then I'll take you somewhere that you'll tell me things you like other than oreos?"  
"That sounds good but-"  
"Cordelia how are you feeling?"  
"Much better." And her warm smile gave Geralt's ego that had been through quite the test a nice little boost, she was nice again, her again. "Still scared?"  
"No. Geralt I just don't-" His hand at her neck pulled her face towards his. He kissed her, and this was better than please, more successful than yes or no, there were no possibilities running through her head as he let his lips plunge and and parry against hers. He bit a her lip a press past comfortable and she had a wonderful little yelpy groan.  
"Fuck." Jarre slammed the oreos on her dresser and stormed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm finishing the next chapter I somewhat ironically am unsure of exactly what I want Cordelia to like other than Oreos. I don't want it too be so rough and jarring from just the really just campy fun I've been writing but I also don't want it so soft that it's hardly worth the build.


	5. groceries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day cause I'm trying to stop myself from getting lost down this rabbit hole and distracting me from my other story. The longer I linger here is . . . well I could see myself lingering here, I like it here. I don't mean for things to get so drawn out but my characters just won't shut up. I really will try to end it in the next chapter I just . . . I need to edit down my worlds better, I have a problem.

"What are you going to wear?" Geralt was already regretting inviting Jaskier over his house, but it had been part of their long negotiated truce, Jaskier would meddle less if he knew more about his best friend in the whole world. Such as where he lived, and if he in fact was finally willing to admit they were friends.  
"To the grocery store?"  
"Yes. Well for-"  
"No shirt no shoes no service. That's the benchmark right?" Geralt knew even yes or no questions could grow long winded if Jaskier was left unattended. "Three quarters of the way there. Just need to put my boots on."  
"Well yes but the goal is to dress to impress I would think. You've worked plenty hard to get the time of day out of Cordelia and I'd hate-"  
"I've always had her time of day. She's just . . . skiddish." Her interest in him had not been a matter of contention. "And you're to impress enough for the both of us right now." Geralt took a long stare at all the loud and contrasting colors and patterns that Jaskier was sporting.  
"Thank you? That was a compliment right? It's so very hard to tell with you."  
"Sure." Geralt shrugged, he'd let Jaskier have the compliment now so he wouldn't fish for it later.  
"Geralt can I ask you a question?"  
"Hmm?"  
"I am all for this will they won't they anti social romance between the two of you. I have seen many a relationship blossom in our little watering hole. Broken a few but that's neither here nor there, but still it does my soul good to see two of my dear-"  
"You've made that clear Jaskier. What's the question?" Keeping Jaskier focused was far more tedious than doing so with Cordelia, at least he could see her train of thought, Jaskier would go off the rails as soon as given the chance.  
"While I support it whole heartedly it is . . . curious."  
"Was there a question in there?" Jaskier was fishing and Geralt was not one to take bait, he'd open up just as much as he absolutely had to.  
"So if all goes well and you fall madly in love. she'll continue to not play and you'll continue to just . . . sow your oats at the bar? You think that will . . . work long term? I have it on good authority, it does not. Have you two talked about that?"  
"We haven't talked about my oats Jaskier and if you bring it up at the store I'll cram you into a can of quaker." The grocery store was not the bar they'd not trapse up and down the isles speaking at length about sexual conquests.  
"Well? You're a man with a plan? What is the goal here? You're not going to stop too are you? If so we'll have to throw you a going away party. Streamers ballons. . . or we could go with a more somber wake motif that's more your-"  
"The plan . . . I won't force her to do anything she's not comfortable with. She doesn't have to participate if she doesn't want to, she really got upset when Vilge showed up." He shrugged, it may be something she'd never feel safe doing and while that would be disappointing he wouldn't be angry. He knew what he was walking into. He was not making an effort in hopes of what she could provide as a scene partner it was something else.  
"But you hope to convince her to-"  
"I plan to convince her that she can trust me. I'm starting there Jaskier. What she had with Vilge was not a healthy relationship and-"  
"Geralt have you ever been in a relationship?"  
"Yes." He saw Jaskier's eyebrows raise to suggest elaborating. "Not relevant."  
"I disagree." Jaskier was enthralled as he ever was with the little bread crumbs Geralt dropped about himself.  
"You're entitled to." Geralt shot down said enthrallment convincingly. "Do you think she would want that of me?"  
"I think she wants every fuckable inch of you but what it exactly?"  
"To stop? She wouldn't ask I know that, but do you think she would view it as cheating?" He wanted her because of how she made him feel outside the bar but while he was nearly made of will power he wasn't sure how willing to give up how he felt inside the walls.  
"Well. . ." Jaskier may have been the wrong person to quantify what was and was not fidelity. "I think she would . . . worry. It's kind of her shickt. I've never heard Cordelia be jealous or possesive of her previous partners and most of them were pretty polyamorous, she wanted them to be happy and-"  
"Hmm."  
"I say something wrong?" Jaskier had never heard a boot tie so . . . angrily?  
"No. Why?"  
"The word happy kind of made you . . ."  
"Growl a bit?"  
"Something like that. Point is, she'll want you to do what and who makes you happy, she's said that from the beginning but she'll worry you won't pick her over them. What with them offering something she can but won't."  
"Hmm."  
"You're welcome Geralt. Yes that was terribly insightful. Don't mention it. Come to me for guidance anytime, what are best friends-"  
"Do you want to walk to the grocery store?" Geralt grabbed his keys.

"Iola will you push me around in the cart?" Jaskier could not give up the chance to be the center of attention even admits a mass of strangers, if he could have their eyes he wanted them. There wasn't a second of hesitation or a moment for confirmation before Jaskier had hopped over the side and straight into a shopping cart. Which promptly starting rolling with gravity down the slant to the parking lot no one noticed. "Fuck!" It was a decent slant.  
"He is a fucking moron!" Geralt chased after him. Geralt was fast but he couldn't stop time. He caught the handle and turned his body along the side of the cart, clencing his eyes shut as he hoped the oncoming car hadn't skipped on their break fluid.  
"It won't be a dull trip to the market!" Jaskier rushed out before the horn of a rightfuly annoyed minivan driver could flood the parking lot.  
"Hmm." Geralt contemplated tipping the cart over but before he could Iola silently had crept up and took the handle and began to push. Geralt rolled his eyes as he and Cordelia followed behind. "What? Is that what makes Jaskier so irresistible to women?" Geralt caught an almost fond look in Cordelias eyes. "Just acts of reckless stupidity?"  
"What? No . . . I mean maybe that's part of his charm. I'm not getting all hot and bothered for Jaskier if that's what you're asking." Cordelia scoffed.  
"Then what was that look for?" Geralt was not very expressive himself but he was quick to notice the change in others.  
"I don't . . . Sometimes I wish I was like Jaskier. Just boldy rolling where no ones rolled before. He never gets stuck in his head. I mean it has it's draw backs and I'd rather be too cautious than road kill but still. I mean you didn't have a whole lot of time to second guess either so maybe it's just about-"  
"I'll push you around in a shopping cart like an idiot if you want." Geralt shrugged. He didn't get the appeal but he rarely found amusement in the same things as most.  
"It was an example Geralt I don't actually need-"  
"Why not? People will stare sure. I can't stop how other people react but . . . I don't even like Jaskier and I nearly got hit by a car for him. Nothing worse than looks will happen to you I swear."  
"You wouldn't feel embarrassed pushing a grown ass woman through a super market Geralt?"  
"I don't get embarrassed." Geralt shrugged again.  
"That I don't believe." She chuckled back.  
"That I can fix." And Geralt was quick, he had a hand under her legs and her middle draped over his shoulder in a flash.  
"Geralt put me down!" He could hear a bit of fear from going topsy turvey but overlaying that was a warm in the moment laugh, and it filled him with a certain bit of pride, the anxiety was gone for a second.  
"I will, right into a shopping cart." And he laughed too, being silly and spontaneous like Jaskier didn't appeal to him, he wasn't after any and all attention but this felt differnt, he still felt in control, but just in a lighter way. Walking with purpose had it's value as he found a cart quickly and placed Cordelia inside it. "You alright?"  
"Yeah Geralt I'm fine but you don't-" Gangly as ever she tried to prop her way out.  
"I put you there just stay." And neither one of them were for long fits of laughter, but it was nice to let a smile linger. "You look nice by the way. I like the dress. I'm sorry I didn't dress . . . to impress." And he began pushing his cart like it was any other thursday. The more he thought about it this was probably the first time he had seen her out of lounge wear and beyond just the asthetically pleasing fact that she did look like a little caged canary it was that she had clearly done that just for him and that not right feeling in his gut seemed to wash into something warm and nearly happy.  
"You have impressed me before I knew your name Geralt. I have a lot of catching up to do. Plus your all black everything complements the yellow."  
"Hmm." She never pointed out or lingered on what he wasn't, what he lacked, just appreciated him for what he was. He didn't have to shine and scream, his somewhat muted state was just fine. Normally when he got close to someone they tried to change him, make him more or less of something. He was comfortable in his skin, it was nice to have it be comfortable for someone else.

"Hmm." He was a bit surprised to be honest, they had been in the grocery store for about fifteen minutes, gotten plenty of stares but hadn't had to tell her she was fine once. She wasn't waving like she was in a parade float like Jaskier was but she was less anxious than Geralt had been expecting. "What's the difference? Between here and the bowling alley?" The bar had a clear difference to it but Geralt didn't see how this didn't have her shoulders at her ears.  
"I'm not letting anyone down. I know they're staring just because I look ridiculous. Not because I messed something up."  
"No one cared about the gutter balls."  
"I told you I . . . think people lie to be nice."  
"Hmm."  
"That and you help."  
"That so?"  
" I . . . You're calm, you're always calm it's-"  
"I'm not always calm." Even if this reputation suited him better he didn't want her to give credence to any view of him that wasn't accurate.  
"You stay calm around me."  
"I am not always calm around you. Calm people don't growl." He stared at the wall of cereal. "What do you eat for breakfast?"  
"Are you assuming I'm staying the night?" She didn't seem offended but there was that blush in her voice, that on hearing it a second time he decided he'd like more of not less.  
"I'm preparing as if you are. I'd like you to. You don't have to, but humor me and consider it? Pick a cereal?" He pulled the cart to a stop.  
"What do you normally eat for breakfast?" The answer she got to that was a box of shredded wheat tossed at her feet. "They're not even frosted." She looked at the sad bland box with a bit of a pout.  
"Is that a problem?"  
"Nope. It's your breakfast." And it was another warm fond little smile as she found a spot for it amongst the moat of groceries forming around her.  
"Your turn. Your breakfast." He could see the possibilities start to whirl in her head, it wasn't exactly random but what small little things set her mind off was tricky. "You can't mess up at picking a cereal you want Cordelia unless you lie and pick something you'll regret later."  
"Is count chocula a year round cereal?" She sounded a bit mousey but it was still a warm and honest answer.  
"Children. I am surrounded by children." He let out a sigh as he pressed the cart forward. "Wasn't so hard was it?" And another box toppled into the cart.  
"You're not-"  
"I'm not anything Cordelia. I asked you to pick so whatever you chose was fine. You could have chose grape nuts for all I care. You can like things I don't like. I still like you." And it was silent for a long while, as Geralt just went about his grocery shopping. "I still can't read minds." He finally stated as they rounded another corner.  
"Huh?"  
"Something's bothering you. Something I said but I can't read minds so I don't know what."  
"I'm not exactly fun to hang out with."  
"The fun committee is in the other cart." He pulled them to a stop again.  
"I mean . . . how I think, how I act, isn't . . . and I'm that way more times than I'm not."  
"What's your point?"  
"You're just very sure that you like me."  
"Is that a problem? I told you I very rarely don't know what I want." Right now he wanted her to just spit it out.  
"I can't figure out why."  
"Hmm." He could understand her concern, she was stress in a sun dress but just like the fact he wasn't a wealth of dazling charisma and personality didn't seem to bother her, the anxiety while at times could be hard to navigate, didn't bother him, he accepted that as part of her. "I don't like other people telling me what to do. You've never told me to do anything."  
"Oh." And a little dread sunk in. That had been a poor word choice on his part, he could tell she was worried she had made an awful mistake. That he was in fact Vilge all over again. What he liked about her was it could be his way always.  
"That's not what I meant. Please don't run out of the cart." He felt his teeth grinding, could hear the growl that was building, he didn't like this ongoing comparrison. Despite his agitated state she just nodded and waited. "In the past. . . people I've been with have told me I need to be . . . more . . . or sometimes they'd prefer me less. Playing a role for mutal enjoyment is one thing. I can't be **more** in real life. This is all I am. This is not . . . fun to hang out with." And he shrugged again. "I try to make you feel more comfortable, but I wouldn't tell you to be less anxious. You said you want me to be happy but you never told me I need to smile more, talk more. I like that you can just . . . let me be." Every time he had given relationships or really even friendships a go he felt that he had to give up so much control, so much of who he was just to become what the other person actually wanted and that left him feeling a bit broken a bit unwelcome in his own skin. So he had stopped. He didn't have a dress to impress personality, he was very . . . simple and that was not enough for anyone to really find comfort in, he had decided those were the breaks. He wouldn't give up who he was, become some parody of himself to give worth to his being. Then Cordelia came around, she seemed to find comfort in him, just as he was, and that had him feeling a little less broken, a little happier.  
"Well . . . I'm glad you feel you can just be yourself around me and I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to . . . but I do find you fun to hang out with. We all do."  
"Hmm." And he thought on how Jaskier did pester and nudge for him to do and try things a bit louder and more spontaneously but it had never been an ultimatum, never more than a suggestion or observation. Jaskier did, for whatever reason not just tolerate Geralt's rigid outlook on life but seemed to embrace it as a fitting foil and find ways to encorperate it into . . . not being alone. "Do not tell people that." Jaskier would get them killed with one of his fun ideas one day. Geralt couldn't have him knowing fun was something the over grown oak was capable of enduring.

"Are we forgetting anything?" He wasn't sure any more groceries could fit comfortably inside the cart before she'd be rightfully entombed.  
"I don't think so. Here help me out and we'll go check out." She reached out her hand.  
"I'll let you out when we get back to the car." He started pushing them to check out.  
"Geralt side glances mid isle is one thing. A whole checkout of judgment is something entirely different."  
"Why do you care so much what cashier number three thinks?" And they were in line and he could see the tension start to rise as she was stuck in one spot under scrutiny. "Are you alright?" He could see the stares too but really they did nothing for him, they simply existed. He cared about one set of eyes in the moment and he was glued to them.  
"I'm fine. Nothing awful will happen." It was an angry change the subject nod.  
"Fine but not good?" There was an audible click of someone's phone camera and any fun that Cordelia had found in being silly left. "Alright up and out." He had her out of the cart and standing on her feet but that just caused snickers. Geralt gave them an ugly sneer but he didn't really have the time or care for them. "Here." He rummaged through his cart and handed her a package of oreos. "People eat grapes in line all the time. Have your snack." He couldn't break that person's phone, as he warned the reactions of others were beyond his control but he could do his best to keep her focus off that and on something more pleasant.  
"It's not the end of the world." Cordelia spoke over the loud creak of cellophane as she opened her cookies. "Want one?"  
"Hmm." He was proud of her, he knew she was likely not as calm as she was trying to play off but she wasn't absolute stress in a sun dress, perhaps having him there had something to do with it.  
"Ow fuck!" And the snickering stopped.  
"Sorry didn't see you there!" Jaskier waved from his spot in Iola's cart that had slammed right into the back of someone's knees.  
"Is this a thing?" A very confused individual just trying to live their life finally voiced their curiosity.  
"Walking is antiquated." If Jaskier didn't love his ten dollar words. He was lounging, legs over the lip of the cart as if he was soaking in some oppulant bath. Bracing his hands he leaned up and tried to whisper at a member of the group who had been chuckling, but much like patience Jaskier didn't have a firm grasp on whispering. "I feel sorry for you that are behind the curve and hate joy. I really do. Live a little." He crashed back into the cart dramatically, he really had so little care for his well being and such high desire for theatrics. "Live a lot." Jaskier smiled for the camera.  
"They have forgotten all about you Cordelia." Geralt shook his head as he grabbed another Oreo.

They parted ways in the parking lot. Iola and Jaskier were headed to the bar more than likely and Geralt and Cordelia had to drop off his groceries before going out. "Iola likes me but she does not trust me." Geralt's statement had a bit of a question to it.  
"What makes you say that?"  
"The long silent worried look she gave you as if she might not do it again. I don't have a cage in my basement I plan to keep you in." His eyes were on the road as he came to the realization it wasn't just Cordelia's trust that mattered. "Am I going to speak wrong at the bar one day and not see you for months again?" And his knuckles got a little white around the wheel.  
"Iola does like you, she even likes us. It wasn't worry that I'd be locked in some dungeon just your average . . . you're going on a date worries."  
"And what are those?"  
"Well even a regular date can get you locked in a dungeon but . . . I think Iola is more worried that maybe our expectations are too high. She's worried about teenage heartbreak Geralt not that you're some big bad wolf."  
"Hmm. We're not exactly teenagers and I wouldn't hurt you." And his chokehold on the wheel lessened as he pulled into his driveway.  
"So are you just . . ." She chuckled as he cradled the bags of groceries instead of holding them by the handles like a normal person. "Geralt give me a bag or take two trips you don't have to get them all in one go."  
"Get the door for me?" He was already walking with purpose, he started for the backdoor then turned and went to the front. Even with the change of direction Cordelia still only barely had time to roll her eyes and try to catch up.

"Oh." There was someone in the den because of course there was. How had Geralt even thought for a second he'd have his house to himself? "This one wears clothes." It was Eskel. Geralt laid the groceries out on the tabel with a thud.  
"Did you bring a woman into your house completely naked? With people home?" Cordelia's face was red, Geralt had no ten dollar word for it.  
"It's not a family affair. I don't think he knew I was here." Eskel did not want whatever Geralt dragged in from the bar to think incest was on the menu. "We're close. We're not that close."  
"I did not . . .know he was home." And how had Geralt imagined introductions to go any smoother than this? "Cordelia this is my brother Eskel . . . you've met Lambert. Ves is . . . somewhere I'm sure." Geralt didn't know the last time he had introduced a woman to his family. Ages if Vesemir's questioning of when Geralt would settle down and have children was any gauge.  
"It has a name too. Wow two for two Geralt." Eskel was a bit cynical about Geralt's trists. And while Geralt was standoffish and polite, Eskel was just standoffish.  
"Hi?" Cordelia gave an unsure wave, trying to figure out why her mere presence was iliciting such ire from this man she did not know.  
"And-"  
"If you say she talks I'll break your face in Eskel." Geralt grabbed Eskel by the collar. He could not control the reactions of others, but his family didn't count he could make Eskel show just a bit of respect.  
"Calm down. I didn't know she was special. Should have figured, you didn't try to sneak her through the backdoor."  
"Aw." Cordelia gave a half smile.  
"Yeah chilvelry at it's fucking finest. You making a whole day out of this? What are you doing out in the daylight?" Eskel didn't pay Cordelia much mind.  
"Dropping off groceries. Then we're going out." Geralt let Eskel go.  
"Groceries?"  
"Groceries." Geralt pointed at the table.  
"Is that a fetish thing?"  
"Groceries?" The word was losing meaning as Cordelia said it for the third time in thirty seconds. "No? I mean maybe to someone . . . but they're just . . . groceries."  
"So you went grocery shopping with her?"  
"What part of this concept are you not grasping Eskel?" Geralt's head was starting to hurt.  
"Cordelia was it?"  
"Yeah?"  
"How long have you two been dating?" Eskel was under the impression Geralt had been hiding the fact that he had a girlfriend from them. Or maybe Geralt was ashamed in some way of his family that was a bit too crude around the edges for the city life crowd he surrounded himself with.  
"Well we technically haven't gone on a date yet per-"  
"You took some random woman you're not dating grocery shopping?" Eskel stared at Geralt in pure confusion.  
"Ask me if I went grocery shopping one more time Eskel. I dare you." Geralt hated repeating himself and Eskel knew it.  
"I just . . . don't understand your life. What are you two going to file your taxes next?"  
"Have you guys not filed your taxes yet? I helped Iola and Jarre with their's if you need-" This was simple nervous words filling the air, hoping to get Eskel to nod or smile just some reaction outside of absolute dismissal.  
"Who. Are. You?" Eskel was just staring at her like she had two heads.  
"I know that is a rhetorical question . . . but I really badly want to say Cordelia."  
"I get it you're one of those loveable quirky girls. You should run."  
"Huh?"  
"Eskel leave her alone." Geralt's knew Eskel was just being a bother because he knew he could, trying to embarrass him in front of company but out of context that could be taken poorly.  
"No _you_ leave her alone. You'll crush her little pixie spirit." Eskel was goading Geralt, trying to get a rise out of him. It was just brotherly banter but Geralt was not amused. "See? He's inches from punching me in the face? A real brute." And Eskel had no clue what he was doing, what he was stiring in Geralt, what nerve he was hitting. He hadn't told his brothers about his reputation. Geralt could feel his fists clench, he could hear that growl again in the back of his throat.  
"You're fine." And his blood that had been running hot cooled, nearly instantly. He blinked his dry glare strained eyes a few moments and then looked over at Cordelia, she did look a bit nervous but her smile was warm, she was genuinely trying to be comforting.  
"Fucking weird." Eskel was off the couch, walking away just shaking his head.  
"Sorry." Geralt let out an annoyed sigh. "Fuck."  
"What?"  
"I-" He had just run up and grabbed his brother by the collar, to them that was normal rough housing but from the outside looking in Geralt just painted himself easy to anger . . . easy to lose control. "He was pushing my buttons and-"  
"Now I believe you."  
"What?"  
"That you're not always calm."  
"I know." He stated a bit somberly.  
"You're allowed to not be calm Geralt. Family can be annoying I get it."  
"I don't want you to think when I'm not calm I . . . hurt people."  
"I don't think that Geralt. Not everyone thinks that." And her while her words were soft, they weren't scared. "We should put the Gro. . . things we purchased in the fridge before they get warm." She felt safe enough, to joke.  
"Hmm."

"I'm sorry."  
"What are you sorry for now?" He wasn't one for aplogizing but he had done it once in his home and now a second time as they left the reastraunt.  
"Dinner was quiet." They had talked sure but Geralt was begining to feel his years of vehemently opposing social interactions catching up with him. In groups he could hide or lean on others to make up for his short comings but not when it was one on one. Normaly that wasn't a problem because he likely didn't want those one on one conversations, and his lack of words made short work of them, but this was something different.  
"Dinner with you is always quiet." It was Cordelia's turn to shrug like it was nothing. This may have been a first date but this was not the first time they had shared a meal together. "You like to enjoy your food. No harm in that."  
"Hmm." He had that not right feeling in his gut again. "Your expectations of tonight what were they?" Even though their conversation had been limited, it had been nice, being around her just generally felt nice, he didn't want it to be a solo affair, he wanted it again. He'd have to see if he was the only one.  
"Going grocery shopping, which was, eventful. Having dinner with you and making sure I didn't lose a finger. I count all ten. And perhaps going to your place and filing your taxes." There was the blush in her voice again.  
"You can just say sex."  
"I can but where's the fun in that?"  
"There's plenty fun in sex if you're doing it right." And he got her to laugh again. Maybe he wasn't a complete lost cause when it came to conversation, maybe he was his own brand of ultra dry fun.

He managed to get her downstairs without having a family member ambush them which was a small mercy. She had been doing so well all day, but any anxiety he'd been able to ward off her hit her like a freight train the second her bare back hit the mattress. "You're fine. I . . . Cordelia I'm not going to hurt you."  
"You don't need to keep saying that."  
"I won't."  
"I know that. I believe you."  
"Then. . ." Part of him was quick to ask why she didn't trust to play with him but he knew that was something he had no right to push. "Then why are you so tense?"  
"Because I know this isn't your normal gig and-"  
"Gig." He rolled his eyes. Why people were so adverse to just saying the word he'd never understand.  
"Not the way you normally have sex. Better?"  
"Say it again."  
"What?"  
"What we're going to do."  
"Have sex?" He could hear the blush bleed into the words.  
"Again."  
"We're going to have sex." And it finally hit her skin, even in the dark he could see the red start to crest in her cheeks.  
"No. I'm going to fuck you." And he remembered her saying she didn't like to talk during but her shoulders were losing their rigidity, she wasn't as stressed, she was starting to focus. He watched as she bit at her bottom lip. "Is that what you want?" And he took it from her, taking her lip from under her teeth to under his and he bit, digging down slightly.  
"Yes." And her voice was small and tight and he felt her hips do a wonderful little twist and churn.  
"Hmm." He pulled back for a moment running his hand through his hair, letting out a calming breath. He found himself wanting to be rough, his lust tended to lean that way, and regular sex could be rough he'd done so enough but didn't know the first thing about what Cordelia wanted and he knew she wouldn't speak up once he got started. He also knew he didn't have to be rough with Cordelia to keep her attention, he had it as long as he kept her calm he had her focus. He turned them, till he was on his back, her legs straddling his waist and her eyes were wide in question. "I want you to ride me Cordelia." She didn't move, she was frozen, stuck in her head. "Can you do that for me?"  
"Yes." Finally she let out a breath she'd forgotten. She slid onto him and began gliding up and down on him, a slow, clearly still stuck in her head rhythm. She had been right, she was quiet, he could have heard a pin drop.  
"Do you like this Cordelia?" And she didn't say anything, possible answers fluttering in her head. His hands went to her hips as he bucked up to meet her, to steal her rhythm from her, setting his own. She regained some sense of focus, some level of ease. "You prefer this. I did say that _I'd_ fuck you didn't I?" And he watched her face soften from fear of underwhelming anxiety into something eager. "You don't have to tell me. I know that you prefer it. Do you know how I can tell?" He finally heard something, a small little groan that could have just as easily been washed under the sound of central air, but he had been so focused on her it shot right to his ears. "Yes or no?"  
"No." Her voice was shy, but not anxious, it was just . . . hiding.  
"I can feel it Cordelia. How wet you've gotten for me." His thumb streched from his hip starting rolling lazily at her clit. He watched her eyes clench shut, her face scrunch, another pretty little running groan. "I want you to focus on me Cordelia. Don't run." He grabbed her attention with a sharp thrust. "Every time." Another punctuating pulse. "I want you to count as you feel me inside you." Under his palms he felt her tense in a different way, it was not a tightening of lust. "You don't have to do it out loud. Just count for me?"  
"Yes."  
"Can you keep your eyes open for me? Focus on me?"  
"Yes." This was still soft, but less shy, it wasn't trying hide from him.  
"Good." This wasn't regular exactly, he was aware, but there were no restraints or toys, no other participants, this was close enough. Neither one of them would enjoy themselves just rutting quietly in the dark. Her eyes that had been glossing over under his gaze sharpened for a second, it was anxiety but it was different, a better anxiety. "You want something don't you?" He rarely talked this much, not in scenes, not in life, she hadn't asked for a word but it felt natural enough.  
"I . . yes." The amount of focus it took to read her and keep her grounded, indeed it was an acquired taste, but it was his. Geralt rarely found what others deemed enjoyable of much merit, why would the opposite be any different. He was finding this a much more pleasant was to fight for control, it had him less uneven, less unhappy, but still holding a moment firmly in place.  
"You don't have to tell me." But he wanted it, badly, wanted her to tell him something that she liked, something she wanted. He wanted to give it to her, it didn't matter what it was. He held her firmer, thrusting deeper, he wanted her pleased. "If you want something ask."  
"I . . ." And her blinks were heavy and thoughtful, she was losing focus.  
"Close your eyes." She did so with that appreciative ease. "If you want something ask. This isn't a trick Cordelia."  
"Your cock, I want . . ." She stalled out again.  
"You have my cock." He stated with another commanding thrust. "Is it not how you want it? Is it not the way it was when you got wet for me before?"  
"Before?"  
"Are you telling me you never got wet thinking of me before? You've spent months wanting me Cordelia." It was on the lighter side of teasing but he pressed a bit further. "Is that what your telling me? That you never made yourself cum to the thought of me? Yes or No? I can smell a lie Cordelia."  
"No." And it was a beautifully keening little word. He had her forgetting to hide. He had her in his crosshairs.  
"How did I fuck you then? How did it start?"  
"My . . .you fucked my face." This was anxiety and lust all swept into on, this was a bit more exposed than she felt completely comfortable with and he knew it.  
"Thank you." He turned her under him and after a few long thrusts appreciating the new angle he pulled out. "Open your mouth."  
"Geralt you don't-"  
"Please." And he wasn't sure what his face looked like, if it was stern, or pleading, fierce or fond, he just wanted it to be the correct combination for her to allow him to give her what she wanted, just the smallest bit of her fantasy. He was past her lips before they were fully open and for a moment he had to just bury himself there, still out and calm. He could feel her throat constrict around him and calm was something hard fought for, something that lust was burning around the edges. Her tried to tunnel in on her eyes and they were wide as always but the want blown out in them, the appreciation that he was there, that he had her, finally focused him. He was slow at first, letting her adjust and stretch around him. Then he heard something that was more akin to a whine than a moan. "Do you want more Cordelia?" And his hands laced deep into her hair and he could see her eyes go glossy and eager again, he could feel her try to inch forward to have more of him. "If you want something ask." He pulled her hair, peeling her off of him. Her lips were slick and wonderful and he languished their loss.  
"Please. Yes. I want more." It was more of a sentence than she'd said since they started and he knew she had let herself get lost in the moment, the moment he was in control of. He didn't slide but crashed back into her, he didn't aim to be denied passage any longer than he had to be. And it was a bit rough, a bit frenzied but she started at these filthy groans and he couldn't help but thrust up to meet them.

"Good. You're doing so good Cordelia." One hand was viced in her hair, the other petting at her cheek, gliding and grabbing at her skin. And some of the groans grew lighter, grew nice, warm and inviting. "I don't usally . . . Cordelia I want to cum" He chalked it up to pining like an idiot for so long but he found himself circled by impending release. The hand in her hair bunched further. "Is that what you want Cordelia?" There was another whine from the back of her throat and he chased it spilling inside of her before letting go of her hair fully. He leaned into her, leaving long licks and probative kisses down her neck, across the curves of her body. A long swipe of his tongue where it mattered most sent her whole body spasming, leading his nails to dig into her skin. He knew she was responsive.  
"Geralt!"  
"Hmm." He stopped all motions, looking up at her curiously. "I want you to do that again. Can you do that again for me?"  
"You don't-"  
"Please."  
"Yes." And her head tipped back into a pillow, her faced turned away from him. He began licking firmly at her again, feeling her shiver. He placed a plam at her stomach and just felt her twist and turn. "Cordelia are you alright?" Even at her most anxious she had never had an aversion to eye contact.  
"I'm f . . . I'm good Geralt." She seemed a bit unsure, her body was enjoying itself but her mind was losing focus. He rolled off the bed with a bit of a grunt. "What are you doing?"  
"Stopping." He stepped away, trying to calm down any loose nerves, giving her space. She hadn't let go of control in months . . . she was scared of tipping and crashing hard. He pushed her like he had promised so many people he wouldn't. "You're fine Cordelia. Take a second. No rush."  
"I . . . I'm fine." And out of the corner of his eyes he saw her standing, fiddling with her dress.  
"You're running?" Had it been that bad? She just lost focus for a few moments. Did he hurt her? Had she felt her trust misplaced? He had been fairly confident he had left enough control in her corner to avoid something like this. He hadn't been reckless he had made sure of it.  
"No . . .I . . . messed up." He cocked his head to the side. She felt she had to leave, that he wanted her to leave.  
"How?"  
"I don't know. You stopped."  
"Hmm." He laid out on his bed, glad he hadn't started growling again, he could fix this, he hadn't hurt her. "There were only two things I would have changed about what just happened. Do you want to know what they are?"  
"Yes."  
"I'll tell you one now and one over breakfast? Fair?"  
"So you want me to stay?"  
"Well I'm not driving to your house to pick you up for cereal. I have my limits."  
"Can I . . ." He reached out his hand, smiling when she reached out and snatched it. He pulled her into the bed with him. "This is alright?" He probably should have asked first but holding hands was not a large enough comfort blanket for him, he wanted to have all of her in his arms.  
"This is good. Has anyone ever told you that you're quite the smooth talker."  
"No one." Geralt shook his head, kissing the back of her neck. How she took his words as smooth opposed to blunt and clunky he didn't quite get. But he liked the way her mind worked, most of the time. "The first thing I would have changed was. I'd like to have fucked you longer Cordelia . . . till breakfast if I could. I just wanted you and once I had you it . . . was meeting all my expectations."  
"Right but-"  
"Tomorrow. That's what I said right?"  
"Yes." And for the first night in years Geralt slept next to someone.

"She's still here." He had gotten her in the house without prying, anything past that was asking too much.  
"Yes Eskel. Nothing gets by you." Geralt would not let his brother rile him again, waving at him as he passed through the back door.  
"Whose still here?"  
 _'Fuck.'_  
"Whose that?" Cordelia had been letting Geralt eat his third bowl of cereal, she at least had the common courtesy to eat in peace.  
"It's a woman." And it wasn't a brother but an uncle that joined the fray.  
"Detective brains run in the family I see." Cordelia seemed a little less intimidated by Vesemir than Eskel but that's only because she didn't know. Geralt could strong arm his brothers into acting like normal people. He'd never been able to do so with Ves.  
"Geralt aren't you going to introduce us? He was taught manners I promise." Two whole minutes before the lecturing started, a new record.  
"Cordelia, Ves. Ves, Cordelia." Geralt was back at his breakfast.  
"It's nice to meet you." Cordelia nodded, she surely hadn't intended to meet the whole family while wearing yesterday's clothes.  
"Well we are very glad to meet you. I've been telling Geralt he needs to-"  
"Ves. Dial it back . . . please." Cordelia's friends didn't trust Geralt within ten yards of her. Geralt's family was so stunned he had found someone to talk to Ves was moments away from asking when she would pop out grandchildren. Was there no happy medium?  
"I swear he was taught manners." It was something Geralt was sure he'd hear about at length after he brought Cordelia home, but at least Vesemir took the hint and left.  
"Crowded house." Cordelia smiled, even his family didn't bother her. Though she had little room to talk, her house was just as full of loud personalities.  
"Hmm." He finally pushed his bowl across the counter and waited till she was done. "The second thing I would have changed was I-"  
"The fact that we had to stop." Cordelia gave an understanding nod.  
"That you're going home unsatisfied. I don't mind that we stopped, it was unfortunate that it happened when it did. Can you tell me why? So that next time I can avoid it."  
"I . . . started to worry." It was nice that she didn't jolt at next time, staying the night had calmed her.  
"About?"  
"Today is friday."  
"It is."  
"And you'll go to the bar tonight."  
"Probably."  
"And a fine blow job isn't going to compare to what you're getting there, I shouldn't have suggested it. So . . . it's not that what you were doing was not good it very much was I just-"  
"Lost focus. Started thinking about things that were wrong or not important and then I couldn't give you the release you gave me."  
"I Wouldn't say not important."  
"I only got to where I was so fast because you finally told me something you wanted. I liked your suggestion . . . clearly. How about you come to the bar with me?"  
"That didn't work out well last time."  
"You weren't with me last time. You were just there. You don't have to do anything, you can just . . . watch and make sure I don't do anything I shouldn't."  
"Geralt you can do anything you want. I just want you to be happy. I'm not going to sit here and say you can't have-"  
"Not anything."  
"I don't follow."  
"Hmm." He let out a weighty breath. This conversation couldn't go back and forth all morning. He did have real life responsibilities. "Think of it this way. I can't have with you what I have with them. I can't have with them what I have with you. Simple. Drives me crazy, but simple."  
"Vauge." Cordelia still did not seem to understand him.  
"Hmm. I don't want to leave the bar with anyone else. I don't want to go grocery shopping with anyone else. Just you."  
"Alright." And this smile was probably the most welcoming it had ever been, it was nice and warm and wanted Geralt for all the reasons no one else had use for.  
"How are you?"  
"I'm fine."  
"I have about ten minutes before I need to take you home."  
"Did you want help with the dishes?"  
"No. I want you to try and focus on just me for ten minutes so I don't send you home unsatisfied. It really will nag at me all day. I know it's not enough time but I'll just have to make it count." He took her hand in his and led her back downstairs, he really did hate leaving a task half finished.


	6. Strike one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to cram everything I wanted into one more chapter . . . it became five . . . as previously stated I have a problem.

The first strike had gone undetected by Geralt. "Cordelia could you **be** wearing any more clothes?" Jaskier questioned as she met up with them outside the bar.  
"Is it that noticeable?" She was shrugging and shifting a bit at the observation.  
"You are wearing four shirts . . . it's summer." Geralt shrugged, it wasn't the bar back lounge wear from before, she was still dressing with a bit more care and consideration, dressing to impress, but there was just a lot of cotton consideration there.  
"It's layering, it's a thing." She tried to casually defend her choice.  
"Hmm." Even Geralt knew that was in fact _a_ thing, but where they were going less was more unless it was latex and leather. She thought too much on all her choices for this one not to be a conscious one. She was hiding her form deliberately he was nearly sure of it. "Cordelia how-"  
"Is no one going to acknowledge my reference?" Jaskier jumped in before Geralt could ask his question and while Geralt was more than used to being cut off his nose did wrinkle slightly. He had wanted to get to the root of Cordelia's hiding. But the world didn't revolve around his wants.  
"What reference?" Cordelia seemed all to eager to change the subject and that didn't fly past Geralt's notice either.  
"Joey . . . friends?" He looked around for recognition, all he got was half a shrug from Iola. "You have no apreciation for modern art."  
"90s sitcoms passes for modern art?" Cordelia was stretching this tangent long.  
"Yes. Even you Geralt? Or did you not watch tv as a child? Raised off the grid in the montains somewhere. Your only entertainment charming woodlin creatures?" Jaskier would paint a fantasy out of anything if you let him.  
"The cul-de-sac was on a hill." Geralt had no such mind for fantasy. It wasn't that he didn't know how, simply he normally had other places for his head to be, he walked with purpose even in his mind.  
"You lot are impossible!" Jaskier pushed through the door in a dramtic huff and the rest of the group followed behind just a cluster of shrugs.  
"It was a good reference Jaskier. I laughed." Geralt did want to be able to speak eventually and he figured if recognition was what Jaskier was craving, it wouldn't be terribly painful to give it.  
"No you didn't."  
"Hmm. I thought about it."

"Are you scared?" Jaskier and Iola had quickly passed into the room Cordelia was woefuly over dressed for but Geralt had stopped her before she could do the same. "If you don't want to go in there you don't have to." Geralt worried about the big picture, small things normally rolled off his back but for most of the day he had a small worry that stuck annoyingly in the back of his head. "I don't want you to look at me like that again." Like he was a monster, like he could hurt her.  
"I'm not scared." She smiled almost apologetically.  
"Then why are you wearing . . . all the clothes. You look like you're hiding."  
"The less skin I show, the less likely I'll be approached. I'm not one who got approached frequently from the start but why chance it? I'm here to watch not to play."  
"Hmm." Geralt's stomach churned something sickly but his face remained neutral as ever. "You don't have to cover yourself in clothes to say you don't want to play. You just say it. If someone approaches you and you aren't interested just say so. I won't let anyone touch you who you don't allow Cordelia, I promise. No one. Will you at least take off the sleeved shirt?"  
"Yes." She was peeling off her fourth layer, it was a small effortless show of trust. "Geralt you're fine."  
"Was I-" He had been growling again.  
"A bit."  
"Hmm. I'm fine."  
"Fine but not good? I'll take off another shirt if it's so irritating. I want you to be relaxed." She started at another layer but his hand quickly went to her shoulder.  
"I don't come here to relax. I come here for control."

He was not relaxed. After Cordelia went and found somewhere to sit he was left with his thoughts as he walked the room. He hadn't thought of what would happen if someone approached her, but once it left her lips he wasn't sure he could think of anything else. He had no right to think about it. Especially after being approached himself, especially after accepting. His eyes shot over to her, she hasn't moved, it was possible she hadn't blinked. She smiled warmly as ever but he could see apprehension in her face. He figured it to be a mix of two things, this room very well could still be reminding her of what she was afraid of, that and she was comparing herself to the woman who approached him, straight from the gate. "Are you two an item now? Is she your regular?" Sura was the submisive's name and she was mildly curious. He couldn't blame her for that. It was a tight community, everyone knew eveyone's business, nosey or not. Know her as he did plus the skeptisism in Sura's voice leaned to the fact that she was. That she had heard rumors and did not understand the pair.  
"Cordelia is my . . ." For a moment Geralt wanted one of Jaskier's ten dollar words. Something to explain what their relationship was. It was a relationship right? She had feelings for him as well? She had ease around him, but it was more than that? If someone approached her what would she do? "Come here for a minute" He took Sura by the wrist and walked over to where Cordelia was sitting. "Cordelia are you alright?"  
"I'm fine Geralt."  
"This is Sura."  
"We've met." Cordelia's smile while not fond did at least remain nice.  
"She and I are going to have sex." Geralt hadn't grown afraid of the word. He felt no need for long winded introductions or any particular dressing for his intentions. The trio would be unlikely to share the same space for weeks if ever. He was watching her face for some pull of heavy concern but none came.  
"I figured. . . Have fun Geralt." She seemed a bit confused as to why she was being brought into this so formally but was entertaining his train of thought with a welcoming ease.  
"You're still fine?"  
"I'm good Geralt. I want you to be happy. This isn't a trap." The newest smile was fond, and it wasn't for Geralt and Sura to share it was just for him. He let go of Sura's wrist and crouched into Cordelia's space, pressing his lips into that smile, taking it, swallowing it from view of everyone else. "You'll focus on me?" He had his forehead leaned against hers and some of that itch in his skin was just for her.  
"Yes."  
"If you need to leave that's fine. Just tell me? Don't run." If she felt uncomfortable at any point or if something upset her he didn't want her to suffer and panic in silence but if he looked up and she wasn't there, growling would be the least of his worries.  
"If you're busy I don't want to interrupt." He was not used to being the less matter afact of the two.  
"Is she a part of this? I mean that's fine but-" Sura had rightfully been expecting to play not to watch Geralt give another platonic play liniar life hack.  
"If you can't wait. Find someone else." And his words while not quite short did have the back bite of a man who did not like being rushed.  
"Geralt go have fun. I won't leave."  
"Not without telling me." This wasn't semantics this was something she needed to understand. She did not have to be anywhere she didn't want to be, he just didn't want her to disappear on him again.  
"Not without telling you." She was already aware that repeating himself while not something Gerslt enjoyed by any stretch was something he would do until he was understood.

"She really has you pussy whipped doesn't she?" Geralt knew what Sura was doing, what she was after, she was always this way. She didn't want him gentle, or calm, she wanted that image of him erased, that wasn't fun, wasn't what she came for. She wanted him in a state of controlled bother leaning towards anger. Sura knew exactly what she wanted. Sura was just like everyone else, she didn't want to be hurt, unlike everyone else, Sura wanted to be a brat and if that got her some light pain so be it.  
"You should stop talking." The itch was not going anywhere, he wanted control of the situation.  
"Will you make me stop?" Scratching it was just happening, was just for the taking. "Or should we braid each other's hair and talk about our feelings." Sura was very good at getting what she wanted, using just the right words making just the right eyes to get a reaction. She knew how to be just defiant enough.  
"You should really listen when I tell you something." And He had her by the scruff of the neck. Geralt didn't like to be rushed, didn't like to be forced, he'd prefer to set a slower pace.  
"Why should I? What will happen if I don't?" Sura was impatient though, she always was, scenes with her were always fast and direct. He enjoyed half of that and half was enough.  
"The same thing that always happens Sura. If you don't listen I'll have to make you. Simple." He had agreed to a scene with Sura because he knew exactly what would come of it, scenes with her were always consistent. He never had to worry that she'd do or say something to take him out of it, leaving him agitated like the last time Cordelia had seen him, he wanted her to know he could stay in control when the situation was right. If he had any preferred partner it was probably Sura, though much like him she hopped from partner to partner, not getting too cozy with anyone. With her he could safely tunnel in and get lost, taking control, holding focus, her bratty behavior was something that he had patience for, at points found enjoyable. She could scratch most of his itch, but there was a corner of him no one could reach, a part just for someone who didn't play.

It was a bit odd, that his focus was drifting, he wasn't getting fully lost in the moment. It had gotten to a point where he was punishing Sura, because it always got to that point, nothing too harsh just fast and deliberat, consistant. but his ears were only half listening to her lust filled yelped counting. He was thinking. Cordelia was both similiar and disimilar to Sura. While Cordelia wasn't vocally defiant like Sura, the way her mind worked, the way she acted was it's own warped type of bratty, just defiant and tricky to pin down until Geralt could help get her calm. He didn't have to rush wirh Cordelia though, didn't have to punish bratty behavior either he was given the time to be gentle, he didn't have to wait his turn with Cordelia, there weren't others that calmed her. He let his eyes drift over to her, she was focused on him, her eyes weren't scared, there was a small pang of want there, but also that nice fondness she had for him, mostly though it was a pooled focus, right on him. What if someone asked to calm her? Or asked to punish her? Was that what she used to be into? Would he do that if she asked? What if someone aproached her? Took her focus off him? He had no room to question any of those things. This scene was just as consistent as all those before it, after gaining control he had her, was in her. On all fours in the middle of the room. He had no right to think or care what Cordelia would do if someone approached her. He didn't look up again. He had never lost his hold on the scruff of Sura's neck and he focused in on that, he finally tunneled in hard enough, focused in on the fact that while he couldn't control what would happen if someone approached Cordelia, no one was stealing Sura from under him, she couldn't run, he was in control.

"You alright Geralt?" Sura only slowed when things were done, only then did her pace seem to settle. She didn't like to cuddle but she did like to chat.  
"I'm fine." Not good but fine. He finally looked over at Cordelia but her eyes were elsewhere, he couldn't exactly tell what they were on and he tried not to let that bother him.  
"You actually like her. You do have feelings you big stone softy"  
"I do." He grumbled, softy was pushing it but Sura pushed, it's what she did.  
"She's made you less fun."  
"Hmm." The grumble rose to a bit of a scoff, Sura was a brat always, it didn't turn off. "I'm sorry to disapoint."  
"I'm teasing. Still had a good time you were just a little less wild than you usually are. Did something change? You save that for her? I don't remember her being a part of the peanut gallery before. You like her watching." She was nosey.  
"I don't like to be wild." He was looking over at Cordelia again. "Her watching is . . . distracting."  
"So you do have fantasies. You going to call out her name next time?"  
"No." Geralt rolled his eyes, he didn't have a mind for fantasy. "Are you done teasing me now?"  
"Get me a glass of apple juice from the front and time to get my knees back and I'll tease you all over again." Sura smirked.  
"I'll get you your juice."  
"Ask your wife if she'd like something. She sure did look thirsty." Sura would nudge till her last breath.

Once Geralt was presentable he walked over to Cordelia. "I need to get some juice for Sura."  
"Alright. Is it-" Cordelia could make it pour possibilities from the sky. She was constantly thinking. He wasn't going to drag her by the hair every time, he could be patient and wait for her to get there on her own. "Is it alright if I come with you? I'd rather not be here alone." He didn't growl, his teeth didn't grind, he was in a very level head space but it did make him unhappy that even though she practically lived in the bar, this room was still not somewhere she felt safe by any measure of the word.  
"You can come with me." He offered out his hand. "I'm glad you asked instead of waiting for me to read your mind."

They delivered the juice to Sura but Geralt politely declined a round two. He and Cordelia returned to the bar. "I want you to tell me first." Geralt had been half in his head, only the second part of his thought came out.  
"Tell you what?" She took a long bordering on obnoxious sip from her straw. He smirked for a moment, it was nice to have someone to talk to after, normally once the fog cleared he was alone for the rest of the night. His 'friends' all scratching their own itches.  
"There might come a time when someone approaches you and you feel safe to say yes. If you want to you should. I'd like you to tell me first? I don't want to know them . . . something simple like I did with Sura?" He watched her get not anxious but perhaps a bit sad for a moment.  
"I can do that. We'll still leave together though right?"  
"We will. Outside of the bar is different." She still had that sad look about her and that small sentence didn't seem enough to lift it. "You're upset. Is it something I said? Or something I did?"  
"You didn't say anything mean Geralt. I'm not upset with you. I do think we should maybe make an early night of it-"  
"You're running."  
"I'm telling you first that I want to go home."  
"Hmm." And while he didn't like that she was upset, clearly about some part of this brief exchange, he was proud that she was stating what she wanted, that she had her fill for the night. "That's fine." He nodded and stood. "What are you doing next week?"  
"Working and sleeping mostly." Who wasn't? "You'll see me any day but Sunday."  
"What's Sunday?" He tried to stifle a smile, he was glad she was casually promising that she wouldn't ghost him again.  
"Jarre and I are going to a big flea market, but it's fairly out of the way, it'll be a whole day thing."  
"Can I come along? Unless flea markets are something just for the two of you." Jarre and Cordelia had the hobbies of an old married couple, bowling, puzzles, now this.  
"You can come Geralt but you did hear me say I'm going with Jarre not Iola right?"  
"I didn't mishear. Do I give off the impression I'm afraid of Jarre?" He wasn't, nor did he hate the man, Jarre was trying to keep Cordelia safe in a way that made sense to him. He was doing so based on more speculation than fact but that didn't make Jarre better or worse than most others.  
"No. But Jarre-"  
"Doesn't like me, he doesn't have to. Doesn't know me, if I am to see you as often as I'd like to, he's going to have to know who I am. Accept that I'm not going anywhere."  
"Alright." The sadness wasn't resolved but it had receded, her smile was warm again, her eyes fond and nice. "Geralt can I kiss you? Please?" There wasn't fear this time, no stress, no way this request could have been twisted from somewhere dangerous or unfair. She wanted just soft affection, from him. "Geralt?"  
 _'Shit.'_ He had basked in the requset a beat too long. "You can. I want you to." It wasn't like his hard crushing kisses, it was just soft and comforting, just sweetly eager, shy and small. It was everything he wasn't and it was just for him. When she pulled away he didn't have words. This could be a issue, not in the moment, not for her, but in general he was slowly coming to realize.  
"I'll bring Jaskier with us. unless that's a problem?" He took her hand and started walking them to his car.  
"Why would you bring Jaskier? I mean of course he can come and I know he's your friend. but I don't think I've heard you invite him anywhere before."  
"He has a habbit of showing up invited or not." But that wasn't it, he had to give Jaskier credit where it was due. "I'm hard to get to know, I'm not exactly an open book." Geralt had a bit of a shrug to that statement, he knew he could try to be more approachable, more likable, it just seemed so false, so forced. "I don't try to explain myself to others, so I wouldn't know where to start. Jaskier knows me better than most." Which still wasn't a lot but it was something. " if anyone can can explain me in a way that makes sense to Jarre, it's him. Or he'll go blue in the face trying."

The car ride was . . . tense. "Are you trying to get him a job?"  
"What?" Jaskier was mid rant about one of Geralt's work stories when Jarre had finally cut him off.  
"I get it he's the best parole officer to ever exsist. He's got a heart of gold. He probably saves kittens from trees and walks old ladies across busy streets in his free time."  
"And that doesn't count for anything?" Jaskier didn't try to play off his shameless plug as anything but.  
"No. Why the fuck would it?" Jarre didn't care if Geralt was an eagle scout, he cared the he could and therefore would hurt Cordelia. "And he brought you along what so you and Cordelia could protect him from me? So he wouldn't be bothered to talk?" The back seat had been mighty quiet. Cordelia was down some deep internet hole on her phone and Geralt was staring out the window only occasionally looking over either to correct Jaskier when he got his facts wrong or to peer over Cordelia's shoulder if she found something amusing enough to audibly chuckle.  
"You haven't exactly been warm and fuzzy Jarre." Cordelia peered up from her screen. "Be nice."  
"Me?"  
"It's fine." Geralt placed his hand on the back of Cordelia's neck, his eyes still looking out a passing traffic. He wasn't exactly expecting much to come of this interaction, the fact that Jarre hadn't picked Cordelia up from his house locked the doors and sped off was about as much 'niceness' as he had figured was up for grabs. This was a statement more than anything, Geralt was a part of Cordelia's life with or without Jarre's blessing.  
"Yes you Jarre. Be nice." It was not of the same take it or leave it sturdiness that Geralt was simply made of but it was her standing her ground, not for herself but for him.  
"Or what Cordelia? Be nice or what?" Jarre pushed back.  
"Well I'm not going to hop into oncoming traffic but I'll get us an uber home, we don't have to spend the day together Jarre. I won't let you stare and scoff at him the whole day! You don't approve. I get it. If it blows up in my face, I'll rent you an airplane so you can write I told you so in the sky." She was putting her foot down on his behalf, not earth quaking, but it certainly drowned out the radio, it certainly warmed something in Geralt.  
"Hour long ubers, planes. What does that bar pay you?" Jaskier tried to cut at the tension.  
"Why is everything the end of the world with you Cordela?" Jarre sounded a little exhausted, maybe the smallest bit apologetic.  
"Because everything feels like the end of the world to me Jarre!" It was that tight annoyed tone, when Cordelia felt cornered. "I'm sorry." And annoyance crested back to her staple, anxiety. Geralt's hand rode further up her neck till it was tangled right against her skull, he pulled her head towards him, trying one of those soft kisses atop it.  
"You're fine Cordelia." He breathed over her, hoping to calm her.  
"I'm fine Geralt. This is not fine." She geastured lazily to the fill of the car, she was sad again. The emphasis on this heavily implied Geralt should have known what this meant, he didn't. He read Cordelia near flawlessly, he was just short of gloatingly proud of that, but he had a blindspot when it came to this odd sadness.  
"Hmm." But he couldn't have her know that, she trusted him to calm her, he'd do it blind and backwards if he had to. "It could be worse." He was still speaking right into her scalp, soft kisess didn't come naturally but if his lips moved as he spoke that was close.  
"Worse?"  
"Hmm. Imagine if it was just Jarre, Jaskier and I. That would be worse." He couldn't see her eyes but he could almost feel the warmth return to them in appreciation for his attempt at a joke. Worse but not worst, that would be adding Ves to the mix. Geralt boxed in a moving car with the ghosts of Christmases past present and future of what he had and had not done.

The day got better, Jarre lost his a bit of his bite, Geralt's acknowledged the outside world, Jaskier and Cordelia found replacement gnomes for the ones he had only half deliberately destroyed drunk of godzilla like power and schnapps. Nothing stayed normal, nothing staid nice and better was just baiting for worse.

"Is that Geralt?" His hand that Cordelia had taken tensed on instinct, he doubted this was the start of something good. He turned at his name and at a decent distance there were a group of men looking at him but if he was supposed to remember them he didn't. Then he saw a face he did remember.  
"Fuck." That face was angry and that face was still a bit bent from the last time it had faced Geralt. That face was coming towards him. He had time, to weigh out his options. That was a face of someone primed to throw a punch. Part of Geralt thought he should let him, he hadn't given the man a real one on one swing last time. An ambulance came last time, the police came. Should he not swing back? The odds of not getting detained for beating the same man twice were not in Geralt's favor, but if that man swung first, it's self defense. Then he thought even if he wanted to hit him, even if he legally could, he shouldn't. Jarre barely tolerated Geralt and very much still viewed him just muscle built to break. There was no chance if Geralt threw a punch in the midst of this quaint little market that Jarre wouldn't change their names print him and Cordelia fake passports and sail off to cabo never to be seen again. The hand Cordelia had taken tensed tighter, it pulled, wrenching her behind him as he dodged the strike. Having two full mintutes to see a punch coming made it look more mysticly effortless than it really was. His free hand shoved at the man's back, pushing him to the ground.  
"Geralt what's happening?" Fear, he remembered fear last time. Enough things were just similar enough that Geralt's brain began to blend what was happening and what had. The man tried to prop himself up on his palms but Geralt was down on his knees, his elbow dug deep square between the man's shoulders. This is how it started last time. He was ontop of someone last time. "Streg stay down. I don't want to hurt you again but I will." Geralt sounded just as muscle built to break as last time.  
"Oh shit." Jaskier and Cordelia stated with tandem dread. They didn't know this man's face, they weren't there last time, but everyone had heard what happened in Blavakin.


	7. Familiar faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C/W: It gets a little violent and and times lines seem blurred. I mean that's on purpose and I promise I didn't take this piece that dark. But I'd figured I'd give fair warning skip blaviken if that's something you'd prefer to do.

"Get off of me!" Streg was writhing, seething, kicking and elbowing back with all available might.  
"Stop! Just stop already!" If they hadn't already grabbed everyone's attention Geralt's shout surely caught the stragglers.  
"Get off of him." Streg's friend were swiftly approaching. Geralt would have to do something, quick, kneeling with his back exposed was a sure way to get a kick to the head. Ganged up on, just like last time.  
"Gentlemen. I am all for group activities but I think you'll agree, this seems like a pretty personal affair." This was new, Jaskier hadn't been there last time, didn't stand as a wall between Geralt and the numbers game. A wall that would surely get this shit beat out of him.  
"Jaskier stay out of it!" Geralt's teeth were grinding, he had to do something but every choice left him at a loss.  
"You know me Geralt. I'm a meddler. I . . ." The group was closing in. "Meddle." Jaskier was taking receding steps back.  
"What is wrong with you people?" Cordelia, the one time Geralt needed Jarre to find some under ground bunker to hide her in, he hadn't. Was gloating that all his preconceived notions about Geralt were true really worth the view? "Just everyone back up!" Geralt glanced to his left, there she was. What the hell was she going to do? She was afraid, she was taking those big sweeping breaths and wide eyed blinks, the attention surely short circuting her nerves but she was walking forward. Which in theory meant the men were walking back. Why? What made her step in any more successful than Jaskier's? Then he noticed was in her white knuckled hands, her phone. It was a barrier they dared not cross, because the ire of wherever she might be streaming to was a dark destroying curse that no one would dare trifle with. Just like last time public opinion, the angel from which the scene was viewed made all the difference.  
"I'll let you up. If you swing at me again Streg I'll put you right back down. I'll break your nose all over again." Geralt stood slowly and just as soon as he did, just as soon as Streg's cheek left the earth he craned and spat, straight in Geralt's face. While his hand went to wipe it clean Geralt did not retreat but with slow menace he walked forward. He could taste blood in his mouth, that's how hard Geralt was biting his tongue. Could feel it at his fingertips, his nails digging deep into his palms, hear it pump at his ear drums. His breath was hot and hurried, his eyes clenched shut trying not to see red. He had restraint, he had sense, he had also had enough.  
"Nope I don't care. . . I . . . Fuck." Jarre thought a bit more on his choice than Jaskier, sizing up Streg. "I hope you're happy Geralt. She's going to have to visit one of us in prison now." As Geralt crowded Streg from the from front Jarre with an annoyed look on his face came from the flank. "You just don't spit in a man's face, you just don't." Jarre seemed torn between his dislike for Geralt and his own moral code.  
"You'd stick up for him? Him?" Streg was poking Geralt in the chest. Geralt snatched the proding index finger, bending it against the joint. The air stood quiet outside of Streg's curses and cries for a minute.  
"I regret breaking your nose Streg. I really do." Geralt's eyes were dark, nearly haunted. "I won't regret breaking your fingers Streg." His voice was calm, gliding under Streg's pained pleas to let go."You heard what I said right?" Geralt craned the finger harder, causing Streg to try and twist and turn to releave the pressure. "Fingers Streg. Plural. You've got ten. I'll count as I go."  
"Alright alright. . . we'll . . . just let him go." One of the men held under the freezing gaze of Cordelia's camera finally came to his senses. Geralt was leery, but with a warning snarl he let go, shoving at Streg's chest to send him back. Streg was grabbed by the shoulders, dragged off by his friends.

"Geralt?" There was a wide berth around him. He could hurt, he did hurt, they had defended him, but now they'd run, to make sure they weren't next.  
"It's fine." He didn't out run his reputation, it would always chase him, always _be_ him. "Go." He didn't want to watch them leave, his glare cooling, falling to the floor.  
"Geralt. . . Can I have your hand?" She was always nice though, the farewell would have to be the same.  
"No." He didn't want a nice goodbye, he didn't want to miss it. He would never force her to be anywhere she didn't want to be but if she took his hand, he wouldn't let go.  
"That's fine." He couldn't escape her though. She sat right in front of him, right on the ground so she could find his eyes. She looked that sad way again. "Pity I can't read minds either."  
"What?"  
"I don't know what you're thinking. What I can do to help."  
"I'm fine. I'll be fine. Go." It was tugging something in him to say those words.  
"We'll go in a second. Maybe to dairy queen."  
"Huh?" Those sad eyes were unblinking, completely focused on him.  
"They have oreo blizzards. It will have to wait though and that's ok." She stated casually. "First . . . what do you need Geralt?"  
"I don't need anything." She was persistent and that tugging had him wanting to breech the gap, wanting her closer. He felt burned of all his heat, felt cold and in need of her soft warmth.  
"What do you want Geralt?" He was always expected to be so patient of others, he was stoic and solemn, he had to just endure everything and everyone. No one was ever patient with him, everyone always rushed, not Cordelia.  
"I want you tell me you're not scared of me." He wanted her to lie.  
"I'm not scared of you Geralt."  
"I want you to tell me you won't . . . Tell me you'll . . ." She waited there, focused, no push, no pressure just ease and focus. "Don't run."  
"I won't run Geralt."  
"You heard what happened? You know why he hates me?"  
"Yes."  
"No. You don't . . .I want you . . . to let me tell you . . . before you leave." He could feel a somber calm wash over him, make his thoughts and words come slow and heavy as he panted his rage to a simmer.  
"Tell me." She would sit there, all eyes still on them, and listen to him explain how he hurt people, why he hurt people.  
"Not here. I want to . . . Let me. . . Oreos always make you feel better right?"  
"They do." Her eyes were still sad but her smile was so fond, so nice, for a little while longer it was still just for him.  
"I like calming you down I just . . . one more . . . You've all earned a blizzard." He wanted to stall this moment long, he was not beyond bribery.  
"Geralt?"  
"Yes?"  
"Can I have your hand. I know you already said no but I need a little help up?"  
"Hmm." He reached out and hoisted her to her feet.  
"Can you . . ."  
"If you want something ask Cordelia." He was desperate for it. He still had her focus, he'd buy it with near anything he could give.  
"Can I see your other hand?" She had never asked for both before.  
"I'll need them-" He had given it to her and she had turned it to something sweet, something considerate, something to calm him. She had placed his hand at the back of her neck. She let him roll his still tense fingers down her spine, to draw patterns against her skin. "Hmm." It sounded almost pained. He pulled her firmly to his chest. He didn't need his hands back, he'd learn to live without them.

"Jaskier?" Geralt was watching his sad little cup of vanilla ice cream melt under his stare.  
"Yes?" There had never been, in the history of ever, a more melencholy ride to dairy queen. It had been stone silent, Jaskier had even willed himself mute.  
"What did you hear happened? What was the story of me before I showed up?" He didn't want to hear it from Cordelia, he wasn't sure he could stomach hearing it described by her.  
"That . . . a scene went bad. That you snapped and couldn't distinguish what was real from what wasn't. You were with Renfri-"  
"Hmm." He hadn't heard that name in going on half a year.  
"Streg's role was the . . . I don't know husband walking in on a cheating wife, reclaiming her-"  
"This . . . is like hot for you p . . .nevermind." Jarre's opinion on role playing and fantasy was not the focus here. He shut himself up, shovling his blizard past his only slightly judging face.  
"But you didn't want to share . . . didn't give her up. When Streg tried . . . you snapped. Renfri kept telling you to stop . . . she ended the scene or tried to and you didn't . . . you beat him bloody. You broke all the rules."  
"Hmm." Geralt nodded and for a while it seemed like that was it, that there no points that he had contention with. "I did hurt Streg, a couple others that stepped in too." He nodded again. "Renfri told me to stop hurting him. She did use her safe word." He seemed to be replaying it in his head double checking his memory. "I didn't stop till I was tackled by . . . four . . . maybe five of them?" It was annoying him that he couldn't be sure. "I didn't stop when she said, because the scene I agreed to stopped when Streg showed up. I thought he was going . . . I thought he was not . . . I wouldn't have agreed to have to fight another man for control." Geralt knew his own limits, things that would trigger him. "That was her fantasy . . . I think she wanted me to hurt him a bit." Renfri knew them too. "They had split . . . it had been bad, he had spread some awful rumors about her character. I wasn't told of any roles. I didn't know the difference between what was real and what wasn't because to me once he showed up it was all real. It's hard to break rules when you don't know you're playing."  
"So you were protecting her?" Jaskier always found a way to shine some sort of light on Geralt.  
"Not at first. It was selfish at first, cocky. She was mine and he shouldn't have even tried. Then maybe for a minute, when he touched her. . . . but then . . . I . . . did lose control."  
"You don't remember all of it do you?" Cordelia could see it, the frustration at the lapse of control, of memory, of mind, he had been a muscle built to break just like Jarre claimed him to be and it sickened him.  
"No."  
"You said you'd tell me what happened. So the bits you remember?"  
"Hmm." He nodded, he would tell her all of it.

\- Blaviken-  
After Streg and Renfri's falling out she had taken quite the interest in Geralt. She was a switch and that was interesting and chalenging and fun. He had gotten comfortable with their scenes, he had grown comfortable with her. He wouldn't have agreed to their scene if he wasn't comfortable with her. It was less than ideal for him, it was crowded, more demanding on his focus. It wasn't just him and her, there were others. It had it's benefits, it was a layered level of control given to him. He was the only one fucking her, the only one allowed, the others were kissing her, toying and teasing her, caressing her, just adoring what they couldn't have, what was only given to Geralt. He had buried himself deep in the moment, deep in her, making sure there others were secondary, it was him she was focused on, responding to. He had such a solitary mindset that it took a minute to even acknowledge when Streg had entered the room. "Get off of her!" He had heard it surely, but as much as the demand grated at his ears he was submerged deep in the moment, Geralt had ignored him. "Renfri how could you do this? I loved you. I gave you every chance to be a respectable woman!" Geralt should have stopped then, he was being pulled from the moment hard. This was between the two of them, a real relationship, based in real life, he was playing with fire. All he saw was Renfi's face go up, lose all focus on him to stare at Streg. "You just let any animal rail you then? I was right!" The words _let_ and _any_ bothered more than animal, the sense of holding firmly onto control that he had come for was being struck at.  
"I want Geralt, not you Streg. I've moved on. He does things for me you don't." She had bent her back into him leaving Geralt conflicted. She was feeding him reassurance, that he did still have firm footing when he very much didn't, that he was in control when he very much wasn't. This was where he got selfish, cocky. He thought if he just ignored this intrusion, they could move past it, through it, the moment hadn't yet been pried from him. He pressed a hand between her shoulders, guiding her deeper under him.  
"Mine." And she moaned for him, into him. For the moment she was still his, he had regained her focus, tunneling back his. "Say it." His nails had dug into her back, raked down, leaving a claiming trail.  
"I'm-" He thrusted harder, faster, he didn't want her to say it he wanted her to moan it.  
"Yours G-" Two fingers snuck in between a collar and her neck, tugging softly, he wanted her to gasp it, he wanted the focus of her very breath.  
"Yours Geralt." The groaned admission added a misleading, ego stroking layer of control. Streg wasn't part of the scene but in an selfish cocky way Geralt got a dark satisfaction out of having his focus as well, out of dominating the whole room. It was mucking Geralt's sense of immersion. As soon as he had nestled back into the moment it was pulled from him, in a dangerous way. She was pulled from him, Streg had her by the hair, pulling her from Geralt, she was scrambled to her feet pulled to Streg's lips, forcing a kiss on her.  
"Shouldn't be treated like a princess, like the homewrecker you are. I'll have to show you where you belong. Who you belong to." And Geralt was out of the scene, his body surging with adrenalin that had no purchase. He was full of concern and anger and felt control leaving the room, the state, the continent. He didn't feel safe, Renfri wasn't safe, no one was safe.  
"Let her go Streg. Now. This isn't-" Geralt watched as Streg turned her in his hold, placing Renfri as a shield between the two men. What redemable qualities this man had Geralt would never know. He had turned off his play mind set the moment Streg had reached out, Geralt wasn't breaking the rules Streg was. He thought Renfi was in legitimate danger and he needed to save her. "Renfri duck." She had, she had listened and at no point did she tell him she had wanted this, planned for it. Her reaction was all the confirmation he needed, the last fully coherant decision he remembered. He swung and the crack that would leave Streg's nose crooked rang clear and deafening. If Geralt was in control, of himself, of the situation of anything once Streg let go to hold at his bloody nose Geralt would have taken Renfi to a safe place and he would have decided what was the sensible thing to do from there. He was not in control, it had left him ages ago, perhaps it had never been there in the first place. He lunged, he had Streg by the throat. "You don't touch her." He slammed Streg to the ground pinning him there. "Don't ever touch her like that again." His hand left Streg's throat and had him by the hair, slamming his head against the floor.  
"Shit. Geralt stop. Get off him." One of Renfi's little pets had tugged on Geralt's arm  
and he just didn't understand. If they were on her side why stop him? Because he was out of control, part of him knew that. A small part, one that was trying to claw it's way to the surface, to say stop, to say enough but that small part was digging through muscle and bone.  
"Don't touch me!" The bigger part of him just had him feeling attacked, so he pushed back at the poor man just trying to cage a beast. It all devolved from there, who was attacked and who was attacking blurred. Just men in varying states of nakedness fighting to remain upright. At some point he had heard Renfri shout at some point even a word registered.  
"Moon!" which would have been important, which would have meant stop, if they were playing but the game of it all was truly long past, there was no stopping. It was Geralt against the world and he couldn't center, he couldn't calm, all he could do was fight. At some point there was blood, if it was from his busted lip, or Stregs busted face or anything else in reach of hands feet or teeth worth breaking to get free he had no idea, he was truly being mobbed. He had no idea of anything after that, not till the police came. Geralt was unsure if he was tazed, he sure heard a tazer and the sound more than anything brought him out of his head. His whole body was bruised and tinglingling and . . . angry. No one really wanted to explain this to the police, who seemed to be uncomfortable even being there in the first place so it just . . . was over. No one felt the need to explain to Geralt what happened, his welcome there was just . . . gone. He didn't know what he did the last few minutes of that skirmish and that haunted him. What did he do? What could he have done? Carnage had been his fault, but why did the blame for breaking the rules not apply to anyone else? It didn't matter, his perspective didn't matter, when boiled down to the root, he didn't matter, he just hurt.

"The girl did you hurt her?" Jarre spoke up first.  
"I don't . . . Last I remember seeing her she had run to some corner. I should know if she was hurt . . . who hurt her but I don't. I should have been focused on her, keeping her safe."  
"She tricked you." Jaskier felt the need to remind Geralt lest a black hole of guilt swallow him up.  
"I didn't think that in the moment. At the time I thought she was in danger. I should have focused on keeping the room safe, that should have been my job, my focus. I wasn't focused on anything."  
"How do you know she was behind it? Why didn't you clear your name?" Jarre wasn't understanding and he didn't think it had to do with this not being his world.  
"I heard her say moon." That stuck in his head.  
"Her safe word." Cordelia's voice was soft and nearly emotionless. Geralt cringed but pressed forward.  
"Yes. But not till . . . She hadn't said it before I hit him. In or out of a scene I wouldn't just hit a man for some sort of enjoyment. I did it because I . . ." He didn't know if he had been defending Renfri or his sense of control, his mind had been in such an uneven state of distress. "She didn't even say it when I started fighting the others . . . just when . . . when she felt _she_ lost control of me. When _her_ game was over."  
"Ok so again. Why didn't you tell anyone?"  
"I fought six men because I didn't want to share. That was the story. I looked the part, I acted the part, I was the green eyed monster they asked for." Geralt shrugged. "Seven people say I snapped, I did snap. Pissing and moaning over why and whose to blame doesn't straighten Streg's nose." It wasn't like the opinions of those in Blavakin mattered much to him any more.  
"Cordelia? Earth to Cordelia?" Jarre waved a hand in front of her face. "I did not sign up for marrige counecling." Cordelia's chin was leaned down into the table, her eyes either staring at her empty cup, or straight through it and on for miles.  
"I'll get you another if you'd like but you can't just eat ice cream and denial forever. Pretend I didn't say what I said, did what I did. Your sugar high will crash eventually." Geralt was spinning the spoon around in her cup, both wanting and dreading her focus to square back up to him.  
"I don't think this is something oreos can fix." She sounded the saddest he'd heard her, and his whole chest ached, his breath just stalling and twisting.  
"Hmm. While rare, situations of that type do exist." He didn't know what to do, what to say. "Can you . . . Why are you sad? You can be-" Sad not scared, that didn't make sense, he had braced himself for her fear or maybe even anger for tricking her into bringing such a dangerous person within the fold of her bar, but she hit him with that sadness he couldn't place. "I didn't tell you for pity. I don't want you to feel sorry for me." He tried to start closing himself off.  
"I'm not sure you. . ." And her mouth snapped shut over the rest of her sentence.  
"Can be trusted?"  
"You really can't read minds Geralt." She shook her head no and Geralt's eyes shifted, his closing gates creaked to a hault. He didn't know if he was able to smooth over the hope in his gaze. "But maybe not . . . not with all of me." Cordelia was considering her words carefully.  
"Hmm." He was trying to read past the sadness. "Some of you?" He dumped his half melted ice cream into her empty cup, he was still not beyond bribery. "You didn't run." He figured she meant that play would be forever off limits, but she still wanted the rest of him and no one had wanted the rest of him in so long.  
"Most." She gave him a half fond smile, twisting her fingers within Geralt's that hadn't stopped fiddling with her spoon.  
"What the fuck **is** this?" Jarre Looked to Jaskier for clarification.  
"This is . . . their thing? Are they, aren't they . . . spoilers they are." Jaskier was writing their rom com in his mind. "Wallowing. . . snacks. She's either going to fall in love or type two diabetes whichever comes first."

Memories from blaviken soured his taste for weeks but eventually the itch came back. He knew what he wanted but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to have it. "You're on speaker Geralt!" He wondered what odd job she was up to now.  
"Are you on a ladder?" Was someone spotting her? Marx was probably the only one at the bar at this hour, fat lot of good he'd be to catch her.  
"How can you _hear_ that I'm on a ladder? And why do **I** hear your lack of faith in my balance?" He could hear the amusement in her voice. On nights that she didn't stay over, when he was stuck with his thoughts, he wondered how he managed to keep that. He was sure after that sunday she'd slowly distance from him, not run but polietly drift from him. She hadn't though, he didn't even have to fight, she just . . . staid. He wondered if she knew how much that meant to him. What staying meant? He doubted it, if she knew she would have asked for something in return. Instead she just staid.  
"Good ears. I'll wait till you're down."  
"Is your news going to bowl me over Geralt?"  
"I need to ask you something."  
"No you don't."  
"Huh?"  
"I just want you to be . . . " She was straining for something.  
"Be careful."  
"I just want you to be happy Geralt you don't have to ask if you can go to the bar on a Friday."  
"Hmm." It took him a bit off guard that she knew that was what he was after. He thought himself fairly unreadable but she had been getting to know him more and more, maybe he was giving off tells. "So you'll stay?"  
"Oh." So not all his tells.  
"If it's something you want me to keep sep-"  
"I'll have Iola bring me a change of clothes." She was quick with that plentiful ease.  
"I won't drag it out. I won't be long."  
"Geralt you're not stopping in for a twenty piece nugget. It's not fast food. You can enjoy yourself. Your scene last time was rushed. Do you never . . . take your time?"  
"Hmm." He thought on the fact that he was on speaker phone briefly, but he was stoic not shy. "I'm not one for setting a mood." If he was honest he always wanted more, wanted longer, wanted things to last but his partners wanted bursts of dominance, not lingering focus.  
"If you say so." Her voice sounded playful, not quite teasing.  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"You set the mood for me." It was still playful, but fond, just warm and nice and intrinsically everything that made the itch for her worse.  
"Hmm." If only she knew, would trust him to show, he'd set any mood that would hold her, would make her stay. Fast, slow, hard or soft, he wan't soft but he'd learn for her, he'd focus her there for as long as she wanted. What he wouldn't do to be the one to give her what she hadn't had in so long. He wanted control over her itch, she just had to give it to him.  
"Did I say something wrong?"  
"That wasn't a growl." He had heard it slip past  
"What was it?" She _was_ teasing.  
"Cordelia if I-" It was a groan. Did she know she was teasing? He wanted to ask, but he worried that would be pushing her hand and he promised he wouldn't. She'd stress, if he was just imagining things he'd ruin what he had. She'd feel pressured to indulge or endure his whim because she didn't want to lose him. It wasn't worth risking all the trust he had earned, it wasn't worth the possibility she wouldn't stay. "Like I said. Be careful." He let out a breath of frustration. "I'll see you in a bit."  
"I miss you already!" She was back to her work.  
"Cordelia?"  
"Yes Geralt?" She knew what question was coming.  
"What are you not sure about?" That half unasked question had bothered him since she had cut it off. What about him was she uncertain about? He wanted that anxiety of him gone, that was they key to her small spurts of sadness he was sure.  
"Lots of things. Goodbye Geralt." She hung up. She never answered him. Maybe she didn't want to ruin what they had either. Didn't want to risk it. She wanted to stay.

It looked more imposing than it was, but that was a deliberate act on his part. He had wanted Cordelia to see he knew the difference between hurting someone and giving them the pain they were after. He could use his strength and be in control. Llanva wanted pain. He didn't like floggers, the sound was . . . displeasing to him. That had disappointed her but compromise, conversation and comfort were important and healthy. She was willing to settle for a paddle. To someone like Jarre, Geralt would have looked just like those heavy handed dominants that had scared Cordelia away but he was being even, thoughtful and well paced, doing everything right to be, while by the sounds of it not gentle, but controlled. Llanva had been suspended, she was on her tip toes and for a brief moment the thought of Cordelia stretched on a ladder flickered in his head. He glanced over and she was focused, her eyes did not show any fear that he kept bracing for, they were just wide like they wanted to swallow him whole. He thought he saw her hips lift, along with the counting and he wondered if this was what she wanted or just whatever she was itching for was simply growing unbearable and she'd take any fantasy even if it wasn't hers. He wanted to calm her, ease her, scratch that itch. He couldn't let his focus rest on her though. It was Llanva's moment he was trusted to control, so he tunneled back in on that.

Llanva wasn't chatty or interested like Sura, she was a purely physical person. she was a bit of a cuddler afterwards which was fine, he didn't mind, but it took a long while for him to relax into holding her. He had gotten so used to the way Cordelia's body folded against him, someone else just felt . . . awkward. Eventually she was up, she had gotten what she wanted and was gone. Geralt stood and as he looked for Cordelia's eyes, he didn't find them. They were blocked, there was a back between him and Cordelia. An arm leveled above her at each side of her head. Geralt moved cautiously, unsure what he was walking towards. _'Someone approached her.'_ His throat was dry. If she didn't trust him but someone else could scratch that itch he'd have to be fine with it, that was only fair. ' _I just . . . I want her to give me a chance to try. If they . . .'_ He worried she wouldn't separate the itch from what they had, from the rest of him. Her attraction to him was what had drawn her in the first place, with her needs met elsewhere to what else did he owe her ease. _'Don't leave.'_ Not running wasn't enough anymore, he didn't want to be left.  
"He won't fuck you like he should." Geralt knew this voice, it had stolen Cordelia's focus from him once before.  
_'Not him.'_ This man would un do all of the calm he had given Cordelia, all the progress she had made. _'Don't leave. Not with him. You deserve better. If not me I'll find you someone better. Not him. I won't let him hurt you again.'_  
"He doesn't trust the two of you. You're a bad match. He's a well traveled slut but he's smart, he knows it." It was Vilge. "So you're all wet with nowhere to go. No one who wants you."  
Geralt didn't lose control, didn't lash out.  
"Cordelia? Are you alright?"  
"I can be gentle Cordelia, you know that I can." Vilge was holding her focus. "Do you think he even know the first thing about that?"  
"Cordelia are you alright? I need you to answer me." Geralt remained calm, not for his reputation or sense of control, not for Vilge's face, for her. She needed him to be calm, even if he couldn't scratch her her itch he could do that.  
"I'm ok Geralt." Now he heard fear, heard all their hard work start to crumble.  
"I can smell a lie Cordelia. Are you breathing?" He waited a minute, she was, and they weren't those wide gaping gasps, her eyes seemed a bit lost though, searching, stressing. "Cordelia you'll be fine. I need you to breath for me. Can you do that?" He needed her focus back on him. She was stuck somewhere, in some thick bog of anxiety. "Yes or no?"  
"Yes." Geralt didn't crowd but stood in Vilge's eyeline.

"I need you to move back." Geralt had to stay calm but he didn't have to pretend to be nice. "Now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a lot, it'll brighten up I swear, maybe I'll give them a breather from all this angst. I've run out of awkward date nights though . . . Rollar skating, a movie, dinner with Ves? Who knows I'll get back to you.


	8. Before and After

"We're just talking." Again Vilge didn't seem aggressive, he wasn't barking or grabbing at Cordelia, just as he said, he was simply talking. "If she doesn't want to talk to me she doesn't have to." Geralt couldn't quite tell if that statement was genuine or mocking. Either way he didn't like it, either way he didn't like Vilge. "She just seemed lonely and you had your hands full." Even his shrug could be taken as snide or casual.  
"Vilge?" Cordelia's voice left nothing up for interpretation, it was her desperately trying to swallow down anxiety.  
"Yes?" Both men just watched her filter through thoughts and possibilities and doomsday scenarios in her head.  
"Cordelia if you need something ask." Geralt didn't like how caged in she looked, Vilge's hands still propped at either side of her. "Your breathing is better." He saw a smile be birthed and die in half a second.  
"Vilge can you . . . just step back a bit?"  
"Why? Are you scared of me Cordelia? What happened-"  
"Because she asked you to." Geralt was quick to explain why she didn't have to explain.  
"Right." Vilge's hands dropped and stepped back a few paces. "Sure. I didn't mean to cause trouble in paradise. If life long edging is what you're after Cordelia have at it." He shrugged with a chuckle.  
"It's not funny Vilge." Cordelia was off thinking again. "I don't . . . I'd like you to leave me alone. Please. Because I asked you to." That worked for Geralt maybe it would work for her. "I know you didn't do anything wrong and I'm sorry if me not speaking up . . . made you think I still. . . . I don't play with anyone Vilge. That doesn't mean not with Geralt it means not with anyone and it's very hard-" Her voice was tight under the strain. "But that's not your concern. I'm not your concern and I'd prefer if you just let me be. It hurts. . . I'm trying to . . . just please leave me alone." She was tilting her face up, scrunching her nose, she wasn't sad, she was so anxious it was bringing her to tears.  
"Breathe Cordelia. You said everything you need to. It's over, no one died. Just breathe." There they were, those big chest swelling breaths as she tried to get calm.  
"Cordelia listen-" Vilge started.  
"You don't have to listen Cordelia. You don't owe that to anyone. You just need to breathe. You owe that to your lungs." Geralt would talk over Vilge if he had to. It took a bit of a sliding gate but Geralt mauvered himself between Vilge and Cordelia, crouching down to her level. "You don't have to but would you try to look at me?" He watched her sniffle and sift a bit on his question but then finally her eyes met his. "You're fine." He'd unpack exactly what of Vilge's words had started this panic attack later he just needed her calm. He watched as she nodded that change the subject nod. "Say it." He placed his hand on the back of her neck.  
"I'm fine."  
"Again." He still felt Vilge behind him, but he was of no concern to Geralt.   
"I'm fine." This smile lasted a full second, so there was some improvement. She seemed to be thinking again, just too much.  
"Can you count your breaths for me Cordelia? Focus just on that."  
"Just on that?"  
"Hmm. Simple."  
"Mhm." He smiled as a he saw her eyes slowly lose their flighty tension. "One. Two. Three-" She got all the way to thirty before Vilge's patience wore thin and he walked away.  
"See ignoring people works. Why do you think I do it so often? All talking does is wind people up. Gives them the impression you want to talk. " This smile stuck.

"Geralt?" Cordelia had staid the night, which was becoming more and more of a frequent occurrence. He had been meaning to tell her he had cleared a drawer for her in his dresser if she wanted it but he found himself delaying that statement. It wasn't that he was worried that it was the smallest sign of commitment, but he just was waiting for something, he wasn't sure what.  
"Hmm?"  
"Can I ask you something and you promise not to take it the wrong way?"  
"No. But I'd like you to ask it anyway. I won't be upset with you. Even if what you ask makes me upset." That lead question almost inherently meant no matter how he took it he wouldn't like it. He let his arm folded over her shoulder fall off, giving her some space.  
"What are . . ." She shook her head and seemed to ponder for a moment.  
"You can ask me two questions if you need to."  
"Do you . . . get something out of me being there? During a scene?"  
"I get distracted." Her eye roll subtly telegraphed maybe that wasn't exactly the answer she was looking for. "Sexually?"  
"Yes."  
"No." He wasn't a showman, there was no base desire in him to have an audience, the only reason he was in a public ares was it was kind of an unspoken rule the more private rooms were more for commited couples not casual hookups.  
"Ok. So you wouldn't be mad if I didn't . . . want to watch?"  
"Hmm." When she said it like that it hit him, what he was doing. "I didn't mean to tease you." He hadn't thought it through. Who would want to sit and watch someone else eat a pie while starving? When it was a pie you had been staring at for months. "I wouldn't be mad." He went a step further. "I'm sorry." He had meant it to be reassurance that what was there was sex and what they had was something else but he hadn't asked if that was reassurance she needed.  
"It's fine. I know what you were going for it's just, I always leave . . . stressed." She trusted his intentions even when his execution had been flawed.  
"You trust me too much." He would be harsh on himself seeing as ease was all she was capable of.  
"Do you want me to trust you less?"  
"Hmm. Sometimes. I don't want to be Vilge."  
"Vilge isn't . . . a bad person. He just-"  
"He knew what he was doing." Geralt didn't know if that made Vilge a bad person exactly but it did make him an manipulative asshole at best, and Geralt wasn't inclined to view him at his best.  
"Huh?"  
"You're two things Cordelia. Nice and anxious. He knew how to twist the later to get more of the former. When he's around . . . I never see you that bad. I don't want to be someone that makes you so stressed you sob."  
"I wouldn't say I was _sobbing_."  
"Hmm." She was right she hadn't been bawling, just blinking away tears but the way it sank his stomach she might as well have. "You don't have to tell me what happened but-"  
"I don't want to."  
"I don't need to hear it." It was a bit close to repeating himself but he just shrugged in the sheets.  
"I know that seems unfair. You told me what happened with you-"  
"You needed to hear that. **I** needed to tell you. It helped. It's not about what's fair it's about what helps. If telling me won't help. . . What other than sugar dipped crisco would?" Oreos made her feel better, but they did not fix anything.  
"Help what? With the anxiety? Geralt you-"  
"There's something about me, that makes you anxious and you won't tell me. What will make that . . . it doesn't have to go away but I'd like to know what it is so I don't use it against you."  
"If I told you things would change."  
"Change happens." Geralt felt a twisting inside him he couldn't quite pin down. Is this what anxiety felt like? Is this how Cordelia felt all the time? What would change? Possibilities started to roll through his head. Anxiety didn't freeze Geralt like it did Cordelia. He simply pressed past the unease, he moved with purpose. Change did happen, good, bad, it wouldn't be the end of the world and even if it was freezing up would just leave him vulnerable.  
"I am unsure what you . . . Geralt!" She punched him in the arm.  
"What?"  
"Geralt there's a snake in your room!" Cordelia stood and nearly toppled out of bed.  
"There is a snake in my room." He did not match Cordelia's concern, more an annoyed observation and a rub of his shoulder if anything as he watch the creature slither round his floor.  
" **Why** is there a snake in your room?!"  
"Because even my family's pets can't respect personal space." He groaned as he rolled out of bed. "It's Eskel's snake." He picked it up staring the reptile in the eyes.  
"Is it a free range snake?" Cordelia finally sat back down, her back firmly pressed against the wall. She didn't care if this snake helped pay the electric bill, she was not a fan.  
"Not supposed to be." Geralt wondered if Eskel had let it out on purpose or if this just was a very determined animal with boundary issues. "It doesn't bite." He held out his arm which was fully tangled in scales.  
"Am I supposed to . . . pet it?" Her house didn't keep live plants let alone exotic animals.  
"If you want." He didn't like Cordelia scared or anxious but this was a lighter fear, something trivial. Everything had been so heavy lately, it was almost amusing to have something not dangling them over a cliff. "I like you more than I like the snake. I wouldn't let it hurt you." He could see her contemplating her comfort level.  
"Well that's good." One hesitant finger grazed up against the snake. "Not . . . awful" One finger became two till she was fully petting the snake.  
"What did you think would happen?"  
"That it'd bite me. That's what snakes do. They bite people . . . and crash planes."  
"Even after I told you scorpion doesn't bite?"  
"Your brother has a _snake_ . . . named _scorpion_?"  
"My brothers are idiots. I've come to peace with this. You will too over time." Geralt wasn't sure how personally he should take how similarly fond Cordelia was looking at this snake as she did when she looked at him. He refused to be jealous of a snake.  
"Over time." Where most people got lost in the inference or inflection of words Geralt simply heard them for what they were, words. In that brief exchange her words had told him two very key things.  
"You don't have to winter with us in the woods, but I would like you to at least meet them. I can make them civil in short spurts. Cordelia?"  
"Yes." She had done a full one eighty on this snake now that it had a name, and wasn't swallowing her whole, she was nose to nose with it.  
"Do you think that time is something we don't have?"  
"Like today? I have fuck all to do today Geralt. I mean unless a pipe bursts or-"  
"I mean us. Do you think we are on borrowed time?"  
"I think . . ." She was anxious, but Geralt and Scorpion had fuck all to do today either, they had time. "The novelty will wear off."  
"Novelty of what? Us?" She was full of ease and acceptance but if something's full that means it can empty.  
"Of . . . me being . . . fine. Of you being fine with the choice I made, and how awkward that makes things. Calming me down is . . . novel to you. You like being able to do it, but eventually you'll realize you are a genuinely good person . . . to most people, not just me. That people see that . . . not just me. The novelty of how calming me makes you feel will wear off. You'll find it in others."  
"If you think I will dump you when you're no longer . . . novel. Why invest any time at all?" She was in this relationship under the preconceived notion he'd move on?  
"Just like I said. I want you to be a little happier. You deserve to know you're a good person and if I can help show you that, show everyone that, I'll gladly do it. It's not as if I get nothing out of it. You don't not celebrate halloween because it only comes once a year. You enjoy it because it's the best holiday there is and you're lucky to have it."  
"Hmm." Just like he couldn't promise to not take her earlier words the wrong way he couldn't promise that he'd never leave her, never want to move on, change does happen but Geralt didn't see change as the inevitability Cordelia did. "If I wanted my ego stroked I'd listen to Jaskier tell no one who asked about my work history."  
"It's not the same. It's not the state of the world, it's people."  
"I don't care if people think I'm a good person. Frankly most parts of my life are easier when I'm not. I care if you think I'm a good person. How you feel matters to me . . . fuck more than how I feel matters to me."  
"That's not fair."  
"I told you it's not about what's fair it's about what helps. Having you . . . just having you helps, makes me a little less unhappy." He wasn't a ball of stress like Cordelia so he understood why she didn't see it. How she calmed him, not even from anxiety or rage, just from the constant grind of being constant. He never made choices because choices were already made on his behalf, based on reputations he had. He was always being rushed to a goal he didn't set for himself. Not with Cordelia, he was allowed to chose, he was allowed to vary from expectation and while he didn't do it often, the option was nice. "You were scared of Scorpion's bite even though I told you he didn't. Why?" The jarring change of subject had Cordelia's face snap up puzzled. She didn't question it or push at Geralt's intent though. Just with a head tilt of contemplation and a fond smile at how his mind worked she eased to the next topic.  
"Because snakes bite. It's not that I didn't trust you it's just all I could think about was a story Jaskier told me. I don't know if he's-"  
"I've heard every one of Jaskier's stories. Twice. I still don't believe he went camping, I think he got lost in a convincing pet shop display and his imagination and devil may care attitude got the best of him." He watched as she pulled her face away from the snake to laugh at the mental image. This was the second key point he had realized earlier. It wasn't that she didn't trust Geralt, that she thought in any way he'd hurt her. It was that all she had were her memories and experiences as points of reference. She could trust Geralt all she liked but being asked to play again would be like asking her to pet a snake. She'd always have the fear of a bite at the front of her mind. Just like the snake, maybe one finger at a time, not all or nothing. "I'm going to ask you something and I want you to know if you say no that's fine. You can even tell me not to ask again and I won't." His tone got firm, there was no levity, no aloofness. "You understand?"  
"Yes."  
"I am going to go to the bar again."  
"I didn't mean to say you had to stop Geralt. I wouldn't ask that of you."  
"Just . . . wait till I ask the question. I want you to listen." He turned on a lamp and placed Scorpion underneath, he didn't want to share her focus not even with a reptile. "Do you understand?" He waited for her to nod. "I'm going to the bar again, one more time-" He could see her eyes flicker to speak but she remained quiet. "There's something I have to . . . learn-" It was almost endearing how her lips pursed, his pauses were almost teasing, daring her to butt in with questions and concerns. "For you. You haven't told me what you want so if I'm wrong I want you to tell me but Cordelia I'm asking you to . . . let me try. You deserve to be happy too. We won't do it at the bar, I don't want to. I want to have you here, and I want you to feel safe, with me. You've focused for me before, you've gotten close to letting yourself get there and I want you to have that again. With me, let me control-" There was a twinge of concern in her eyes. "Simple, small, no pain or roles, nothing you can't get out of all on your own, I'll be careful. I want nothing to distrsct your focus from me. just let me get you to that space just once and if you feel it's something you don't want again that's fine. This isn't a demand it's an . . . offer. Is that something you'd want?" He was surprised, there wasn't the fluttering of infinite possibilities scrolling across her eyes, there was just the edges of that focus he was after.  
"Yes."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Give me two weeks."  
"Two weeks?" She sounded gutted, like she had expected him to just take her right then and there, like she would have allowed him to.  
"Hmm. Can you give me that? I want you to wait for me. If I have only one chance to impress you I-"  
"Geralt I can't get more impressed with you." He smirked at the frustration in her voice.  
"There are steps." His hand wove it's way into her hair, pulling her forward into a kiss she was already halfway leaning for.  
"Steps? What steps?"  
"I said I want to be careful." He pulled from her lips trailing down her neck. "That I want all of your focus Cordelia." He pressed at her shoulders, the bed was close but the floor was even closer. "every last bit and that won't come fast or easy." He lifted her shirt as he kissed down her abdomen, he held her hips down before catching her eyes again. "You say I always rush I don't want to rush with you."  
"You pick an interesting time to slow your pace. So are you just going to tease me for two straight weeks is that the plan?"  
"Hmm. I said I need two weeks to get all your focus. I'll settle for some of it between now and then." He was patient but not that patient. His teeth caught on the hem of her pants.  
"Geralt? Have you seen Scorpion?" Eskel was stomping down his stairs. Geralt's face just buried into Cordelia's stomach for a second as he let out a frustrated groan all his own. "I can . . . come back." Eskel froze awkwardly mid stair well.  
"Two weeks from today Eskel I don't care where you are, if you're in my house I'll kill you, spread the word." Geralt half sighed half growled.  
"Step one." Cordelia couldn't help but laugh.

"My adoring fans and attractive friends." Jaskier near floated to their table, he was pleased something awful.  
"Jaskier." Geralt's greeting left much to be desired.  
"Boo." Jaskier scowled for a dramatic moment at the tepid reception. "I have wonderful news!"  
"Hmm." Geralt was concerned, Jaskier had an scheme about him, Jaskier's schemes tended to get Geralt in trouble.  
"So the Countess-"  
"Oh no." Cordelia cringed, even Iola made a disappointed groan.  
"The Countess. Again Jaskier?" Geralt's concern grew, Jaskier's news of the countess always started with grandure and love but always ended with Jaskier licking his wounds and Geralt having to carry his inconsolable drunken friend back to his apartment.  
"Iola you've been to her pool party last year right?" Iola nodded. "Tell me it was not the most fun you've had in a single night? Possibly in any night? Possibly ever?" At this Iola shrugged.  
"She can't!" Jaskier boasted. "We're going."  
"Jaskier?"  
"Yes Geralt? You Can thank me later. I'll text you the-"  
"Look at me." How? Why? What about anything or everything about him gave off the impression that he wanted to go to parties? First Lambert now Jaskier?  
"Yes?"  
"Look at my face." Geralt pointed at his unamused eyes, his over it frown.  
"I'm looking at you Geralt."  
"Are you?"  
"I am. I am right?" Geralt's demand had Jaskier questioning his own eyes. "Cordelia I am looking at Geralt right?"  
"You are. He is. Geralt short of a colonoscopy he can't be looking any deeper in you. Honestly if he looks any harder I'm sure he'll get lost in your eyes and kiss you."  
"Hmm." So there were no way Jaskier could pretend he misheard him. "Jaskier?"  
"What?! For the love of god what?!"  
"Stop. Stop inviting me to things. I do not want to go . . . if I want to be somewhere I'm already there."  
"Fine." Jaskier sounded a little bruised by Geralt's words. "After this I won't ask you to accompany me anywhere." Bruised but not broken.  
"After? Jaskier I'm not going."  
"Do you not like swiming it's less a pool party and more a party that is at a house with a pool."  
"I don't like parties Jaskier."  
"Think of it as a gathering of like minded people then."  
"I don't like people Jaskier."  
"I'm people. Cordelia is people. You hear that Cordelia he hates us."  
"Hmm." Geralt could withstand pestering.  
"Fine think of it as free food Geralt." Jaskier's persistance could withstand Geralt's brooding.  
"Jask-"  
"Food, alcohol, scantily clad bodies even you Geralt can find something to not be miserable about." Jaskier cut off another grumble.  
"What do you need us for Jaskier?" Geralt was tiring of this back and forth.  
"For comradery, for memories, for fun I-"  
"You're in hot water aren't you?"  
"What?"  
"How single is your countess . . . currently?" This made more sense to Geralt, Jaskier wouldn't be holding so firm to have Geralt go somewhere he didn't want to be without reason.  
"Single is relative." Jaskier shrugged.  
"Says you or says her current partner?" Geralt's detective brain had struck again.  
"I . . . " Jaskier sighed. "You've caught me . . . I myself am not as welcome by everyone as I'd have you believe. None of you have to-"  
"If you said that from the begining I would have ten minutes of my life back you just wasted." Geralt sighed. "Fine."  
"Fine?"  
"I'll go."  
"I'm elated . . but confused."  
"Sounds like you in a nut shell. Trying to convince me a party of any sort is something I would want is . . . stupid." Geralt hadn't tried to search for a better word long, it was late in the night. "You've been a good . . ."  
"Say it!" Jaskier was drunkenly leaning all over Geralt's shoulders hoping for the coveted friend title to be uttered.  
"Off." Geralt pushed himself some personal space. "I'll go." Geralt was not above compromise, Jaskier wanted this, badly, if Geralt being there kept Jaskier eager eyed chipper and without danger of losing a body part, he could bear it.  
"Grand. Iola?" They watched a confused smile slide on her face. "What?"  
"Jaskier Iola was invited months ago." Cordelia explained  
"You were? And you didn't tell us?"  
"She did tell us. Jaskier you and her spent the whole night looking at swim suits."  
"No. I feel I'd remember this. Geralt is this ringing a bell?"  
"Hmm?" Geralt was already forgetting _this_ conversation.  
"This was before Geralt."  
"Before Geralt?"  
"Yes some time between your birth and march, before Geralt. A dark time indeed I know." Cordelia took her straw from her drink and tossed it at the silly drunk. "Come on we should go home." Cordelia gave Iola who was nodding off in her chair a shove.  
"Ah!" Jaskier grabbed Cordelia's arm. "That leaves one!"  
"One?"  
"You." Geralt had noticed her try to skirt the topic as well. "Do not make me go alone."  
"Alone? You'd be with Jaskier and Iola. Not with me does not mean alone."  
"Hmm." She wasn't wrong but her answer didn't sit entirely right. "Why don't you want to go? Have you slept with the countess too?"  
"No."  
"Then why?"  
"Cordelia how long have you worked at this bar?" Jaskier didn't give Geralt's question any time, they all knew why, anxiety, that was always the answer.  
"Five years?"  
"Five years. You see these people every day. You know these people . . . They're you're people! But you haven't given them the chance to get to know you. Did you know Keira thought your name was Cynthia?"  
"Yes."  
"Well she . . . wait you did? Why didn't you correct her?"  
"She's been calling me Cynthia for five years it'd be a bit awkward to correct her now." Cordelia shrugged. Jaskier looked between Cordelia and Geralt and let out an exhausted sigh, his forehead thudding into the table.  
"Skip the drawer Geralt just have her move in, she was meant for you."  
"Drawer?" Cordelia was confused.  
"They should get to know you Cordelia. You are a good person. Go with me?" Geralt gave Jaskier a warning glare. "Please?"  
"Fine."

"Geralt what are you wearing?" They barely had time to sober up from the night before, Geralt was still feeling less than spectacular.  
"Same thing I wear everywhere Jaskier. I'm just waiting for the day that ceases to surprise you." Geralt had B-lined it for the source of this agony.  
"You know they make swim trunks in black right?"  
"You don't say? I could leave, go find a pair, lines might be long. Could take me all day. Who knows when I'd be-"  
"Alright alright. Just don't complain to me when you start over heating." Jaskier rolled his eyes.  
"If I start experiencing heat stroke I'll be sure to do it quietly Jaskier. So now that I'm doing this favor for you I-"  
"Geralt socializing is not a favor. What could you, a man with apparently one shirt possibly want as-"  
"I want-"  
"Oh you so actually have a request in mind ok."  
"Jaskier I want you to introduce me to me someone."  
"I love introducing people! Who?" Jaskier seemed genuinely shocked that Geralt hadn't introduced himself to a comfortable wall to lean on and let moss grow around him.  
"Morenn."

"So you introduced him so he could insult us?" The conversation with Morenn had been going well for a brief time, then it nose dived.  
"You didn't let me finish." Geralt knew not everyone appreciated his direct wording of things but if they just listened before trouncing all over them at least those direct words would be understood.  
"First you come over here and ask if I would be willing to do a scene with you. When I ask why, we're not into the same sort of play, you tell me how you get off on bad behavior."  
"That's not what I said." Geralt sighed. How was he so often misunderstood? He wasn't using metaphors or ten dollar words, he was saying exactly what he meant and yet still he was being heard wrong. This was why he didn't open his mouth, it just ended with words being put in.  
"You pounce on the one moment of the other night where I lost focus in a scene. You have no room to talk to me about bad behavior. You-"  
"I wasn't pouncing. You'd know if I was pouncing."  
"It's not subtle." Jaskier added for afirmation. "Morenn, just hear him out."  
"I don't think that's bad behavior. I think that's natural. I think it's a natural reaction to lose focus, or control as you get balanced, that's part of it. That's what the other person't there for, to help you get there, help keep you there."  
"Why bring it up then?" Morenn still seemed very defensive but at least less outright angry at Geralt.  
"Cordelia trusts me enough to let me focus her. I'm used to playing a certain way . . . that way can't be how I ease her back into this. I need to be gentle and take my time. I-"  
"Do you not know how? You want me to teach you how to be gentle?"  
"I wasn't raised by wolves Morenn. I know the mechanics of how to be gentle. It's just that . . . Cordelia _will_ lose focus under the attention and I need to be there for her when it happens. I need to be controlled and I need to be confident. I can't second guess what I'm doing. Gentle is not my area of expertise."  
"You want me to be a practice run. The people you normally play with wouldn't be receptive to gentle." Finally Morenn seemed to be understanding.  
"Yes."  
"This sounds sweet and all but are you sure you'll be receptive to being gentle? You want to be gentle? I don't know Cordelia well but I don't think she or anyone would condone forcing yourself to play in a way you don't enjoy."  
"Hmm." Geralt didn't hesitate in knowing what he wanted, that had never been an issue for him. "I don't ask for things I don't want. I don't get off on bad behavior. Cordelia's focus is what I'm after." He had wanted her that way for months, fantasized over that fond focus she had given him tastes of. "Whatever means gets me what I want is something I'm willing to do."  
"Alright. I'll help you." Morenn reached out for Geralt's hand.  
"Now?"  
"You don't look like you're here for a dip. Do you have other plans?"  
"He does not. He just likes playing hard to get. Go on. I'll keep the girls entertained." Jaskier was waving goodbye. Geralt felt something not right in his gut but he figured it to be the lingering hangover making him a bit on edge. He shoved the feeling down and followed Morenn into the house

"Jaskier have you seen Geralt?" Cordelia and Iola had showed up later than what was fashionable.  
"He might still be with Morenn. They should be done soon."  
"Done what?"  
"Uh . . . Sex?" Jaskier wasn't drunk but his tact was diminishing with each hard cider.  
"They're having sex . . . here?"  
"Where else would they be having sex?" Jaskier didn't understand that the where of the deed was the cause of most of her concern. He did however notice Cordelia's eyes, anxiety, not a flood but a trickle. "Whoa! Wait. . . You've _watched_ Geralt have sex with other women. I thought you two had an agreement or understanding or something."  
"We do." She gave a change the subject nod. "It's fine. Everything's fine Jaskier."  
"No. You are not fine. Fuck Geralt's going to kill me. What's wrong? Why are you freaking out? He's only having sex with her so he can do what you want." He watched her eyes get worse. "Relax Cordelia."  
"Has telling anyone to relax ever worked Jaskier? I'll be fine in a few minutes. I just need some space ok?"  
"Do you want me to find Geralt. He can put a pin in it I'm sure."  
"I'll be fine Jaskier, I trust him. I know how to ride this out. I delt with anxiety before Geralt you know? I can do it without him now." She let out a breath and put on a fairly convincing smile.  
"You'll be fine?"  
"Yes Jaskier I'll live." Cordelia went in search of the space Jaskier seemed unwilling to give and tried not to overthink on the fact that the firm line between what happened in the bar and what happened in the daylight wasn't all that firm.


	9. sorry like you mean it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I want to continue on with this story after this next chapter or go back to the story I had used this what if Geralt was thrown into x barely realistic scenario as a break from. It's been silly but fun and as I thought I sunk deeper than I should have into it lol. We're getting close to the end of at least this part.

As he found her Geralt was less surprised than he should have been. Jaskier had exaggerated. Cordelia had her feet in the pool, talking not only to Iola but a group of people he didn't even know. She was not seething or sobbing, on the brink of some devastating mental breakdown like Jaskier's words implied. This was something he was getting used to, not the exaggeration, he had already long grown accustomed to that, how he could read Cordelia in a way others couldn't. Not Vlige, not Jaskier, not Jarre, anyone could see that Cordelia got anxious, it wasn't subtle. Geralt was the only one who seemed to see the layers to it, the nuanace, he had better eyes for it. Knew when to push and when to pause, that she didn't always need to be coddled or corralled, the anxiety was hers to deal with and overcome, only sometimes did she need outside help, only sometimes did she need him. "Cordelia are you alright?" It was still a good segway into a conversation, set the tone to the group, he wanted to talk to her, they just happened to be there.  
"Geralt." Her smile was fond as always, but he did see it, the ghost of anxiety. He did want to address it, even if she had handled it on her own. "I'm fine." She nodded as she stood. She always hung somewhat awkwardly at this spot, unsure if initiating contact was something he'd be opposed to.  
"Hmm." He wasn't opposed to it but he also didn't mind the alternative. If felt comfortable in a way to pull her into him, just feel tension leave her as her face slid in against his chest, it made him feel . . . safe.  
"Huh." One of the women he didn't know shot him a questioning glance. "So you two really are a couple."  
"I didn't make up the snake story just to impress you." Cordelia was speaking to her but looking at Geralt, looking for something. He just didn't know what.  
"How's that work?" The woman went on.  
"Work?" Geralt knew what she was getting at but he detested being baited, either ask outright or not at all.  
"With you two being . . . how you are." She was losing her confidence.  
"How are we? Exactly?" Geralt didn't want to come off as intimidating, he just also was not a fan of this trivial back and forth, he used all his patient digging on Cordelia he had none to spare.  
"Nevermind. Forget I said anything." She ended with an pateonizing eyeroll.This is how it always was, people were quick to form opinions on him but once confronted they gave him no real chance to defend himself. Or maybe he just snarled them into thinking it not worth the bother. It surely wasn't entirely the world's fault he was misunderstood.  
"Hmm." Jaskier wondered why Geralt was so adverse to socializing, it was because he found it for the most part pointless, redundant, just different faces and the same reactions time after time.  
"It works because we work on it. Simple." Cordelia was different, just enough. Maybe it was the strange way that her mind worked over words or her odd tendencies but she always seemed to be listening even if he wasn't talking, always seemed to be giving him a chance, always seemed nice.  
"I just came to check on you before I went and camped by the food." Her niceness would not make the witchy side glances any more palatable though.  
"We can forage together." She did not seem crushed or even disapointed in Geralt and his less than approachable demeanor. He wouldn't have blamed her for being sour at how his pressence seemed to chill over the group. Bolder yet she wove her fingers in his as they went in search of snacks.

"You were upset. Why?" Geralt figured any more than sixteen consecutive pigs in a blanket would be unseemly, though the face of near shock from Cordelia when he stoped did pry a chuckle from him.  
"Not now Geralt. You're supposed to be having fun. Keeping me in a state of zen is not your full time job."  
"Debatable." He started picking through peanut m&ms for the yellow ones. "I'm here to make sure no one rips Jaskier's dick off." He leaned back in his seat to confirm Jaskier was in one piece, boy was he ever, streaking dick fully intact a dared lap around the pool. "Fun was not what I agreed to."  
"What is fun to you?"  
"Hmm?" Geralt really did not eat and listen at the same time.  
"Fun? You've gone bowling and pushed me around in shopping carts. Flea markets. We've done my fun. What is fun for you?"  
"You hated bowling. Grocery shopping is not a hobby and we had to leave the flea market before I got a police escort. We have not done your fun."  
"You're avoiding the question Geralt."  
"Annoying isn't it?" He cracked a few more candies in his mouth before letting out a sigh. "If I tell you what I find fun? Will you tell me why you were upset?"  
"If that's the only way you'll tell me something you find fun."  
"I-"  
"Fair warning finding out why I'm upset is not a viable answer."  
"Hmm." Geralt smirked, it used to be easy, out wording her with logical not very forthcoming answers, but she was getting used to him to, find ways within his words. "You know in my backyard there's a fire pit?"  
"I didn't even know for certain you _had_ a backyard." Cordelia was smiling but there was a bit of a dig under there.  
"Hmm. I'm not . . . ashamed of you if that's what you think." She had been pointing out how whenever she came over they would always go straight to the basement. "I want you to know them. They just . . . aren't like me." Geralt cared vert much for his brothers, loved his uncle something terribly and part of him worried that Cordelia wouldn't be as fond and accepting of his family as she was with him and he was delaying that moment of truth as long as possible. He had introduced past partners to his family and it had always spelled the beginning of the end.  
"Geralt there's no one like you." She stole one of his m&ms. "You're one of a kind." But maybe she could, she was nice beyond bounds, maybe she did have enough to spare for the people he cared about.  
"Hmm." He was feeling not quite nervous, that emotion he wasn't sure he'd know if it hit him in the face. Maybe hopeful? "Ves always picks the movie."  
"Huh?"  
"There's only a few that still run right. It's one of those old projectors. He picks some old western everytime. It'll bleed out soon." He was filling the silence, not for her but for him. "We sit outside . . . burn old junk on the fire. It's not . . . this." He gestured to the spiked seltzer induced hysteria under the guise of a pool party. "It's fun. Quiet. But fun. Ever play egyptian rat screw?"  
"That's a card game right? Doesn't it involve slapping cards out of peoples hands?"  
"Hmm. Maybe we'd skip that part." Last time they had played Eskel had punched Lambert square in the jaw, knocked a tooth loose, it was an aggressive game to start and rough housing came easy to the brothers when competition was on the line. "Fun is . . . being around people. I don't like people but . . . especially my family. Just being around is . . . nice." He knew it might seem like self inflicted torture to others but he liked just being around, just being close to people even if his stoicism kept him at arms length. It still felt . . . fun to just be around.  
"Sounds nice." Cordelia nodded, again she didn't seem underwhelmed or disappointed that his hobbies weren't axe throwing and bear wrestling, his idea of fun was calm and reserved and that was just . . . welcomed.  
"Tomorrow's sunday."  
"Detetcive brain sharp as always."  
"Do you have to work?"  
"I probably should."  
"Really? You don't look well."  
"No?"  
"You should probably stay home."  
"Stay home?" He had lost her.  
"Play hookey, stay over and watch a bad western with me and Ves. . . Does Jarre like westerns?"  
"Jarre? Did you two secretly bond at dairy queen and not tell me?"  
"Jarre and Iola . . . they're family aren't they? Jaskier?!"  
"Geralt?!" He had gone from streaking to kareoke, Jaskier loved a good bad decision.  
"Come over tomorrow. We're-"  
"That right there is my best friend in the whole fucking world. Inviting me to his fucking house and it's . . ." The reverb from the microphone was almost as heavy as the entirety of the party staring at Geralt. "It's fucking god damn beautiful! I knew you'd open up to me Geralt! You do care!"  
"Good that he didn't make a big deal about it." Geralt wasn't shook by the stares but Cordelia was, she was cringing something painful. "You're fine." He dumped the remainder of his m&ms in the bowl, wiping it clean on his pants before holding it out to her. "Your turn."  
"What?" People were still staring and Cordelia was still frozen.  
"Cordelia stop looking at them." Geralt's hand was still empty so he took her chin in it. "Keep your eyes on me Cordelia can you do that?"  
"Uh . . ." The center of attention was not a place she liked to be. "Yes." She gave a nod and tried to focus just on him.  
"Thank you." He let his thumb trail over her jaw. "So. You were upset with me earlier. My best friend in the entire world told me so." He watched some of the anxiety shift from dread to discomfort.  
"I wasn't upset with _you_."  
"What were you upset with?"  
"Myself mostly. I've gotten over it."  
"Over what? Did you do something worth being upset over?"  
"I got jealous." She admitted softly.  
"Hmm." The hold on her jaw tightened slightly. "Of Morenn? Why?"  
"You had sex with her outside of the bar. I know these are all bar people, it's practically the same just better lit I just-"  
"I apologize." He let go completely, that uneasy feeling from earlier. He had known in the back of his mind something was wrong.  
"You don't have to ap-"  
"I do. There were rules and I broke one."  
"Jaskier told me you did it be-"  
"It doesn't matter why I did it. If there are rules you don't break them."  
"This isn't a scene Geralt." She clearly thought he was taking this a bit too seriously. "I got jealous but just for a minute. I got over it. I trust you."  
"I'm glad you trust me but I have better uses of your trust than this. It was a simple rule and I-" Geralt was stuck in a frustrating loop in his mind. Part of having control is knowing the rules, abiding by them and he had ignored one because it simply was a convinent time saver. He didn't want to be Vilge, given her trust and abusing it because he knew there'd be no push back.  
"Geralt you're fine. You broke a rule. I forgive you. I'm not about to take you over my knee and spank you." Perhaps she threw in that tease to distract him.  
"Coredlia this isn't funny. I'm trying to be serious." Geralt ground to a hault. His whole being tense.  
"You are serious. All the time. It happened, what do you want me to do break up with you because you broke a rule?"  
"If it happens again. Yes." As much as he didn't want to be Vilge someone who ignored rules and cues, she couldn't be Renfri, she couldn't decide when some rules were no longer valid, changing them mid motion. He had to know what was real and what wasn't.  
"Geralt I don't want to-"  
"Say it." He was growling again, at him, at her, at the thought of them being over.  
"If. . ." She didn't want to say it that was clear.  
"Cordelia if you don't say it I'll take you over _my_ knee." He saw her face run a gambit, from surprised, to embarrassment, to curiosity and confusion. She looked for a moment like she might test his threat.  
"Rules are important I understand. If you break that rule again I end what we have." She did understand that while the phrasing was teasing that this wasn't playing, it wasn't a game, this was serious.  
"Hmm." His eyes were scanning the party, what he was looking for he didn't find, but in the back of his mind he knew he wouldn't and by the end of the scan he knew it to be a bad idea outright. He had been looking for someone to even the score. Someone that she could have sex with outside the bar as some sort of apology on his part for what he had done. That's not how it worked though, discomfort for discomfort, that's simply unhealthy and unsustainable. If she strolled across the pool and grabbed Vilge's hand it would very much be a discomfort he could not bear.  
"Geralt are you . . . are we alright?"  
"Yes. Though I shouldn't have to pry that hard." He didn't want to be uncomfortable, didn't want to be breaking rules, he wanted to be in control. The itch was coming back in, maybe the faintest imagining of Cordelia with someone else, maybe being gentle with someone else when it was her focus he was starved for, whatever the cause it was surging at his skin.  
"I didn't see it as a big deal. I was over it."  
"That's a problem. It is a big deal. If something I do makes you upset, even if you get over it . . . I keep telling you I can't read minds. I could do it again if I don't know how I messed up."  
"I'm sorry Geralt."  
"Are you?" He wasn't sure if he was pushing but while he had restraint it wasn't boundless he wasn't made of iron.  
"Huh?" Her eyes were concerned in the wrong way, he took a stilling breath.  
"We work because we work on it. . . We'll work on it." He wanted to reassure her, his itch could be a bit patient. "I don't know if you're really sorry though." Not very patient. He could see the cogs turning in her head, see her focus shift from concerned to curious again. "Say it again." He wasn't quite smiling, wasn't quite snarling, it was a face of hunger and just like when eating the rest of the world had none of his focus.  
"I'm sorry Geralt." Her voice was questioning, apprehensive but still full of ease, full of chance.  
"I don't believe you." He knew he was pushing, as much as he always wanted to reassure and comfort her, in the moment he wanted to punish her. Nothing harsh or draining but she would have let him break the rules, could have led him down the road to be left and in his mind all that made sense was a lesson in not doing it again. Itch all he liked he still wanted to be very careful here, he didn't blink, waiting for any anxiety to come into her face. If it came he would stop, he'd shove all his hunger down and starve.  
"How . . ." Her face did grow uncertain but not towards him, in at herself, over her words. She was very self conscious about her words, he knew that, he could fix that.  
"How can you show me you're sorry?" He watched a held breath release, watched her eyes that were glued to him lose their strained force, earn some appreciation, some calm and assured want.  
"Yes." It sounded like a thank you as much as an affirmation.  
"I can take you over my knee Cordelia, make you sorry." He pushed his chair back, away from her, not wanting her to feel crowded or pinned in place. "Is that what you want Cordelia?" He didn't know how to hide it, the itch, the hunger. He just had to hope he had given her enough reason to believe if she said no that was fine and if she said yes he wouldn't hurt her. The ball was in her court.  
"Yes." It was small and still all too self conscious.  
"Yes what? What do you want Cordelia?" He wanted the blush in her cheeks to burn at her brain, to keep those pestering worries at bay.  
"I want to show you I'm sorry . . . er I want you to make me sorry." It was the words that were tripping her up, keeping her focus from resting on him like they both wanted.  
"Hmm." He stood and just looked at her a minute.  
"I mean. . . I'm sorry I-" His hand was over her mouth. She did this all the time for him, constantly, just easily navigating conversations when he had no words for her, feelings and thoughts certainly but no words. He could do the same, he was confident, he had to show her that, affirming hmms would not suffice.  
"You tried to say your sorry. That wasn't enough. You're going to show me." He let his hand drop from her face, taking hers he started walking with purpose.

Finding an unoccupied room had been an adventure and a harsh lesson in knocking but eventually they found an empty guest room. "It's not the same one." He saw anxiety creep back into their space, he wondered if her mind had traveled back to Morenn, if she had been more upset than she led on.  
"Ok." She nodded, she was tense, worried, he could see panic start to fill her.  
"We can stop Cordelia. You look-"  
"I'm fine." She was not fine. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking some slow centering breaths. Between his wants and her worries it was quite the tug of war on his control.  
"What's keeping you fine and not good?"  
"My head. I . . . feel . . . like I'm already messing this up. I'm over thinking. I don't want to-"  
"I was very adamant about you telling me what you didn't want, when you feel uncomfortable, if you're upset. Those are simple rules. Rules go both ways, I have quite the incentive not to break another." He had to keep talking, silence seemed to be his biggest threat in the moment. She could listen to him or the voice in the back of her head, not both.  
"Right." There seemed to be enough logic there for her to grip on. He waited till the panic had nowhere to go but out.  
"Better?"  
"Yes."  
"Good. Come here." He staid on his spot on the bed. Once in front of him he let his thumb slide into her shorts, tugging them down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, this was a small show of her own confidence, her own want to move forward. "Good girl." He wasn't sure if she liked phrases like that but he felt the need to keep talking so he padded the air with words that worked for him in the past. "Cordelia lie out on my lap." He didn't form it as a question. If she didn't want to talk she didn't have to. Motions came easier, she didn't seem to doubt and fuss, just squaring up wonderfully and warm causing a nice nestling bit of friction between his pants and his cock. "Good." He just let her lay there a while, just watched her. He missed having the focus of her eyes and she hadn't said anything in ages but she was waiting so patiently, so nice and just content there, it was something he had waited for, something he had wanted even before he knew it. He let his hand roam down her back, he could feel it in her skin, feel her itch, her anticipation and it was all for him. He let his hand sit on her backside for a moment before gripping in to her flesh. She was trying not to groan which was half a shame and half endearing, somewhere fine but not good. He let go and rose his hand.  
"Cordelia I-"  
"Please." She regretted the little needy utterance it as soon as she said it, second guessing surely but it had Geralt tipping he had little restraint left to spare.  
"You shouldn't be so impatient Cordelia." It was quick and firm and knocked the yelp right out of Cordelia, she couldn't have held it in her chest if she had tried. He watched her again, her skin grow a very faint red, her hips shuffle in his lap giving him more of that soft friction. "Cordelia are you alright?" It really was putting him at a deficate that he couldn't see her face.  
"I'm good." Her words seemed less tangled on their way out, less bound to possible answers and outcomes. "Keep going. Please." She would have known not to say please if she was reracking chessboard in her head.  
"I don't like to be rushed Cordelia." He let his palm graze over her skin before rising and falling again. Her hips bucked this time, it hadn't been harder but her anticipation had carried it further.  
"I'm sorry." She was getting there, starting to let her mind shift away from the real world just for a brief moment.  
"No you're not. Not yet." He was speaking as if it wasn't just some inoccuous spanking but again he was leaning on what he knew. He had always had to be hard and menacing, yet she didn't bawk at the contrasting tone of his actions and words just accepted them, let them focus her. "Now you can count and it will be ten. Or I can count and it will be twenty." She didn't have to talk but he wanted her to know she didn't have to be mute either.  
"I-" Not an alarming amount but there was tension at being given a choice. His fingers slid up her spine, tracing shapes once they found the nape of her neck.  
"I'll take your skin or your sounds Cordelia I don't have a preference. I don't ask for things I don't want. I'll have either." He heard her let out a calming hum of acknowledgement, of trust that it wasn't a trick question. That little sound filled him with some sense of pride, any dick with two hands and a cock could fumble around a please a woman by chance. It was getting her to the point that she could focus on being pleased that was something merit worthy.  
"You." She didn't say please but it's implication had Geralt closing his eyes just sinking in the moment.  
"Thank you. Cordelia." He let his hand fold into her hair for a moment before gliding down her spine again. "Ready?" He could feel her body fight against going rigid.  
"Yes." It was involuntary the roll of her hips along with the word but that made it all the better, got a pleasantly warm groan out of Geralt. His hand came down again. "One-" It got to ten before it no longer stung but started to burn. She began to fidgit and squirm. "Cordelia?" He stopped, but she didn't her hips still pressing into him.  
"Yes?" She didn't jump off him thinking she had done something wrong, she was focused. Not completely but nearly allowing herself in the moment, in a moment he controlled.  
"Hmm." He had stopped to ask her if she was alright but that question seemed redundant now. "You need to stop moving or I'll lose count." The writhing while giving him that pleasant friction was a bit distracting, a bit unruly. There was a second where she thought about it, he knew part of her wanted to test him, wanted to nudge at his control to get more of what she had long denied herself but she eventually settled and eased. She might have been full of bad habits but she knew good etiquette too. Now was not the time, when he already felt like he was pushing, like he was working blind, to make him press more. She was giving him control without having to exert extra force, she was allowing him to be in complete control of the pacing and pressure. "Thank you for playing nice Cordelia." He hoped he sounded as sincere as he meant to. He knew his inflection didn't tend to vary. He got another nice little content hum and again that stoked something warm and satisfying in his chest. "I'm going to finish now. Slower."  
"Slower?"  
"I want you to think about if Cordelia. Eleven." This contact was heavier too, her yelp was almost a small grunt as she took it. "What you did. Twelve." He let a long pause breath there, waiting till he could feel little slides of anticipation move her against her desire to stay still. "Tell me what you did." He knew she was in a comfortable space atleast for a few words.  
"I didn't tell you why I was upset?" She questioned because she didn't know, she didn't in the moment care, she had a buzz in her voice that was just floaty and still somehow fond.  
"That's what you didn't do. Thirteen." He almost regretted slowing down, he wanted her off him, wanted to be on her, wanted to have her while she was in this fleeting space. "What you did do, you hid from me Cordelia. You-"  
"I didn't I Ahh!"  
"Fourteen." He was listening to her breath, it was high and hungry, just for him.  
"From me. I don't want you to hide from me Cordelia. Fifteen. You shouldn't hide from me Cordelia. Sixteen. Do you know why?" At first she answered with just a questioning groan. "Seventeen."  
"Why?"  
"Because you're mine. Eighteen." She didn't belong to him but leaning on what he knew he got as close to saying what he meant, how he felt, she belonged with him, he could calm her, he could scratch at itches, he was what made sense, what she needed, what she deserved, he could be all that, this was where she belonged. "Ninteen. Say it for me Cordelia." There wasn't bushels of people around, wasn't a threat to his control, he just wanted it, just the way she said it.  
"I'm yours Geralt." Just as nice as she she could be, just as appreciative, as if his words matched his intentions, as if she understood him.  
"Twenty." It was over, simple but not easy. "You did good Cordelia." His hand went back to her neck for a few moments. "Are you alright?"  
"Yes." Her answer wasn't exactly enough, he needed more words this time, for sanity's sake.  
"Fine or good?"  
"Good but . . ."  
"But what Cordelia? What do you need?" He turned her over and she had a glossy look in her eyes. This had been simple, but she hadn't done anything involving real trust or real pain even is small doses in months, he knew he hadn't hurt her he just needed to know her head hadn't gone back to somewhere hurtful.  
"I need . . ." It hadn't been much so the focused lack of thinking wasn't long for this world. "I want . . ." She searched his eyes for a moment and for once it seemed she found what she was looking for. "Please. I just . . . "  
"Close your eyes Cordelia." She did and let out another thankful hum. "You can have whatever you need Cordelia. You did so well all you have to do is ask and I'll give you whatever you need." He was beginning to grow concerned. Figuring she needed space and a family pack of oreos, he could get her both he just needed some type of confirmation, some guidance.  
"I need to come Geralt. I need you to fuck me please." She sounded almost apologetic with those words which left Geralt feeling confused. Why would she be sorry about that?  
"Don't be sorry for that. You can't help it." He laid her out on the bed. He paced around it for a moment. "I did that to you Cordelia. Just a light spanking and all you can think about is coming. I want that. I wanted you to need release. To ache for me. You did well, you showed me how sorry you were. How good for me you could be. Will be." He was a bit torn between giving her what she asked for and the haunt of her apologetic words so he filled the silence and watched her face curl from sorry back to pure want. "Cordelia I don't want you to focus on me." He was peeling off his according to Jaskier one set of clothes.  
"Huh?"  
"Focus on you. Just on getting what you need for as long as you need it. I just ask that you look at me when you come. I want to watch you get what you want. Can you be good and do that for me? Let me see how badly you've wanted this? Wanted me." He was sliding into her, maybe as long as she needed it was a boasting promise, she had riled him something terribly.  
"Yes." Again there was just enough logic for her to stay afloat and not drift to sea in her head. That head tilted back as he got into a pleasant rhythm. She was just as riled if not more than Geralt her hips rose eagerly into him. It didn't take long for the first wave of release to hit her and as promised her eyes found purchase on him and she looked . . . surprised, maybe in part to having a long ignored itch scratched but more than that it was by the satisfied grin on Geralt's face, the controled want and hunger in his gaze.  
"I knew it." He didn't slow or pause just rode through her body seizing around him.  
"Knew what?" Even though her breaths were panted she sounded calm.  
"You look nicer pleased." Sweat was glossing him, the strain of holding himself back was taxing but how her whole body went loose and calm for him, just melted for him was worth it, was giving him extended control of the moment. He had her, she was his.  
"Geralt you can-"  
"Do you want more Cordelia?"  
"I don't need-"  
"I think you do Cordelia." He leaned in for a foreceful kiss, making her breaths come all the faster. "I think you're greedy and incacible for me." He groaned over her little whine as she tried to find a reply. "It isn't enough for you is it? Can you do it again? For me Cordelia? I want to watch you do it again. You've made me wait a very long time to see you like this."  
"Yes." He tunneled in his focus on her, this wasn't gentle like he had practiced it was forceful and a bit demanding of a pace but he never asked for things he didn't want and he wanted her to whine like that again, like she wanted words but couldn't find them, her mind and body just focused in on him. He wanted her to look at him with that appreciation just another brief blitzed moment. It took a bit longer for the second and he was only greedy and demanding of a third because she was twisting and turning and was just flush and fond all over, burning him deep and fully, spuring his control to linger with small stutters of please. Not rush, not have time, linger. He would be lying if there wasn't a sigh of relief in there when she turned down his offered forth, he would pop some blood vessel somewhere if he helds back much longer but he rode this release just the same. "You did so well for me Cordelia. I want you, I want to have you, just like this. It's . . . you just . . .fuck." He had used all his well formed sentences on her and his mind couldn't hold there any longer as he chased down his own release. She rose to it in equally sweaty fever with a hunger to match his, she wanted him, just like this.

"We can't sleep here Cordelia." He heard her breaths get long and even at his chest. Though if someone tried to move them from this bed in their current hazy state, there would be hell raised.  
"I know." She nodded, running her cheek along a tuff of hair.  
"How are you feeling?"  
"Very tired."  
"Hmm."  
"Which is weird cause you did all the work. All I did was lay there."  
"Hmm. I did all that work in hopes you'd say very tired. That was a good answer Cordelia." He smiled and just how comfortable she looked, like she belonged there. Very tired might have been better than any answer she'd ever given him. "I'd like to ask you some questions Cordelia."  
"You love your questions Geralt."  
"I'd like to know you Cordelia. I know there are things you don't talk about but . . . it's important that I know you. You're important." He saw her head raise from it's comfortable spot almost to validate that she hadn't misheard. "These are questions . . . I'd like answers to. You can say no but-"  
"You were very patient with me Geralt and very good to me. I can spare some answers."  
"Hmm." He'd start with the easiest one. "Is it because talking makes you nervous . . . that makes someone like me . . . not exactly a conversationalist appealing?" It still nagged at him what made him her type.  
"I have friends like Jaskier and Jarre because talking makes me nervous. They'll speak for over and under me. You not being one for conversation, it's more pressure not less actually. Someone has to talk eventually, and those who don't talk tend to listen so I know your ears are keen."  
"Hmm." She wasn't wrong.  
"So while I do prefer our conversations over most your minimalist style was not what drew me in."  
"It is different . . . talking to you. Being heard without being feared . . . it's nice."  
"I'm nice or so you say. People listen to you Geralt, not just me. Your words have weight."  
"There's no or so. You're nice." He'd fight anyone even her on that point. He moved on to his second question. "Was Vilge your first?"  
"My first partner? No." The shortness of this answer gave Geralt cause for concern.  
"Who was?"  
"You don't know them."  
"That's not what I asked." Geralt was curious how she found herself in the position she was in. He was glad she had ended up a part of his life, but a person with her level of anxiety maybe shouldn't have entered in to this lifestyle in the first place. What if he hadn't showed up?  
"His name was Arnold, he actually introduced me to . . . everything. I had met him at another bar I worked at . . . dated a couple months and before you knew it I was one of the family."  
"What happened to Arnold?"  
"Why is this important?"  
"Because you're important." It sounded still just as tender but lost some of it's shine with the yawn tailing it.  
"He moved."  
"You didn't move with him?"  
"You gotta love someone to move with them. I loved the bar and my friends more than I loved him." It wasn't a sad shrug just a factual one.  
"So you came for Arnold, staid for the bar. Did you play so you wouldn't lose Arnold? Did you continue to play so you wouldn't lose the bar?"  
"I wouldn't have let you spank me if I didn't enjoy it. My brain might be nervous but it's not mindless. I played because I liked the way it made me feel."  
"Not what I asked."  
"I wouldn't have just stumbled into this on my own I don't think. I needed a bit of a push. Perhaps I was a bit worried I'd lose those close to me if I didn't fake it till I made it. It was a lot of trial and error. I hate error."  
"Few people love it." Geralt tried to remain even, prompting just enough but not pushing. "This Arnold-"  
"We're back on him?"  
"Was he like me?"  
"I've told you before. You're one of a kind Geralt."  
"Hmm." He kissed the top of her head. He liked the way she viewed his irregularity as something to be cherished not scorned like a lepor. "Did he care if you . . . Did he make sure you got what you needed? Or was it all about him and what he could do _to_ you?" Vilge was beginning to make sense, had she come out of the gate not knowing her limits, her wants, her rules were important? She had come in with far too much trust in others to know what was best for her.  
"I . . . found what made me happy, I could get what I wanted out of what he wanted. I've always been . . .quiet. It worked. It wasn't bad."  
"Did I fuck you so hard I blew out your ear drums?" They both gave a yawned chuckle to that. "You've had some shitty partners Cordelia. From the beginning."  
"Geralt you had a scene go so bad the police were called. You were tazed! Was that your only bad partner?"  
"No." If he really thought on it her experience with Arnold didn't differ all that much from most of his own partners, him allowing himself to find enjoyment in whatever he was presented with. His wants were vocalized but only what suited was ever acknowledged. He was needed till he wasn't, wanted in parts not as a whole. "All of you Cordelia. That's what I want. An even trade, all of you for all of me."  
"You're nothing if not fair." She didn't seem overwhelmed by that statement so he opened up a bit further.  
"You don't have to love me enough to move. But I did empty a drawer for you at my place." He added casually. It wasn't saying I love you but it was flirting with the notion. That left her quiet for a moment, but quiet did not mean unresponsive, she nestled in closer, just burried herself safely within his arms.  
"Geralt?"  
"Yes."  
"I _will_ fall asleep on this bed if we don't move."  
"Hmm. My bed is free." They slowly began redressing.  
"Is your room **snake** free?"  
"You tell a girl she can have whatever she needs and she asks for the world." He scooped her out of bed and was determined to get her to his home before they both passed out. When he got her home, he felt at peace for the first time in a while, just happy. They had both always had to give so much of themselves to get half decent affection, it was nice to not give but have, just have each other.


	10. The good the bad and the loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I give up I'll finsh it when I finish it, this chapter was supposed to be like a few paragraphs of the wrap up to this story . . . It turned into days of our lives witcher angst fest, Geralt has all the control and I have zero so I'll just keep writing till I stop.

His first mistake was thinking this day was going to be a good day. His second mistake was making an early start out of it. That meant he was bound to run into someone. "What are you doing with that?" It was Ves who caught him first.  
"I need to make sure it still runs." Geralt was carrying the old projector but placed it down on the table, conversations were rarely short with Ves.  
"It still runs."  
"I don't doubt you take care of it. I just wanted to see before setting everything up."  
"What's the occasion?"  
"Does there need to be an occasion?" Geralt could normally tell when someone was fishing but with Ves it was hard, he kept his motives to his chest.  
"For someone other than me to lug that thing out of storage? For the three of you to stop your busy lives and spend time with the only family you have? Yes." Guilt? Was that what he was getting at.  
"Doesn't have to be all of us. I wanted Cordelia to watch something with us . . . she asked what I do for fun so-"  
"I've been meaning to talk to you about her. Sit." Conversations standing took a while, sitting, Geralt could see the hour he'd never get back just disintigrate as he sat across the table from a very serious looking Vesemir.  
"What about her?" This mattered, and Geralt's stare heavily implied how carefuly they both should chose their words.  
"You two are quite close."  
"So?" Two could hold their convictions to their chest.  
"She's very . . . fragile."  
"You think I'll break her?" Geralt felt a bit hurt, Vesemir of all people should know that he wasn't someone who was reckless when it came to care, sure he was a bit rough around the edges but he had and would go out of his way not to hurt those he cared about.  
"No." Vesemir shook his head firmly. "Do you like her? Or do you like being able to take care of her?"  
"Both." It could be both, Cordelia herself had spoken to the 'novelty' of being able to calm her, and maybe there was something to that but who she was made him less unhappy independently of that skill.  
"I see." The old man nodded thoughtfully which Geralt took to know that he was reassessing, changing his approach.  
"Vesemir is this about where we met? I don't know what idea Eskel's given you but-" Eskel had not in the time since first being introduced to Cordelia laid off his casual yet condemning comments on her being little more than a bar scene gone long.  
"You're a grown man Geralt, I don't need nor want to know exactly what it is you get up to."  
"But?" So it wasn't guilt, it wasn't their lifestyle he was hung up on. What was it?  
"She's not Visenna." Geralt's face lost all it's color at that name, his stomach knotted and flipped, he hadn't liked not knowing what Ves was getting at but he hated this feeling more. "You don't have to mend someone broken to get them to love you. You don't have to do it now and you shouldn't have had to do it then."  
"I know she's not my mother Ves." Leave it to a day he wanted just familiar comfort for Vesemir to get all philosophical and freudian.  
"She's not but I worry-"  
"She's not _like_ her." Geralt didn't growl but he was angry, he was seething at the implication.  
"You don't see the similarities?"  
"You don't see the difference." Geralt's fists were clenched, his whole body tight.  
"Enlighten me." Geralt fought to stay seated, a big part of him wanted to storm off, state that he had nothing to prove or enlighten, but that wasn't entirely true. Vesmir's perception of Cordelia mattered.  
"They both made a choice. Or . . ." Geralt tried to let the anger fall, tried to think coherent thoughts. "Visenna chose to chase some dragon or find value elsewhere, who knows." Stories had varied on what had been wrong, and they had just been kids. Who tells kids the whole truth?  
"Lambert was an angry impulsive child. Eskel needed constant attention. You just wanted to fix everything. You thought if you told her enough that everything was ok, if you did enough to keep your family together, she'd love you . . . she should have loved you properly, and Geralt I know you don't believe it but I'm sure she did-"  
"She left us. What I did. Wasn't enough. It didn't work." Maybe there was sadness in this anger, but it was the sadness of a child pooling in with the rage of a man, it had no chance.  
"But it works with your Cordelia. You say everything's fine, hold her and everything's ok. She loves you for it." The similarities.  
"If I was to compare . . . what my attachment to Cordelia is closest to I wouldn't say Visenna. . ." Geralt's snarl was pained and angered all in one. "Closer to you. Closer to the choice you made."  
"How so?"  
"Suits up at your door, or a phone call. One time you told us you were out fishing and the coast gaurd pulled you over. Lambert was on a kick about boats around that time wasn't he?"  
"I don't really remember." The fond shrug implied that Ves very much did remember.  
"You were told your brother's child had been abandoned. You never told us which one."  
"Old age takes a lot of facts from you, important or not."  
"Hmm." Geralt didn't buy that anything had fallen loose from that steel trap that was Vesemir's mind. "At most you might have felt a moral obligation to take one of us in. Not all three. You chose to take all of us. You loved all three of us."  
"I didn't choose, there was no choosing. You simply a surprise was all, you had always been my boys I just didn't know it." It was insult and amusment all wrapped into one.  
"Hmm." The farther they drifted from a time before Vesemir, the more comfortable Geralt felt, the more sure of himself he was. "Choice, surprise . . . desitiny." Geralt threw his hands up at one of his least favorite words. "Our own mother didn't love us enough to keep us. I tried, I tried hard Ves. I-"  
"You did. I know you did, your brothers know you did. You always try hard Geralt."  
"I don't have to try hard . . . with Cordelia. She is . . . difficult to predict sometimes but it's not hard in the same way. I never feel like I'm being . . . put through a test or a trial. I don't feel that's there are bits of me that were more or less I'd be better. I'd deserve more. She showed up and I chose to care . . . chose to calm her and even if it's not enough I'm-"  
"You are enough Geralt. With or without the girl." That was Vesemir's concern, that Geralt had picked one person to pin his self worth on, that wouldn't be fair or healthy.  
"You were enough without three boys tearing apart your bachelor pad." That house while large and full of charm, had not been child friendly, it was a death trap. It was a miracle they all made it to adulthood with only a handful of scars.  
"Yes but I felt more complete with three little hell raisers."  
"I am fine alone." He had learned from an early age to be fine alone. He had organicly grown to prefer it, his sense of self molding around it. He didn't have any desire to outright change his solitary lifestyle, it suited him, it was comfortable. "I am . . . happy with Cordelia." Happy didn't always suit his scowl but having Cordelia made things better, he was sure of it.  
"Can't fault an old man for being concerned. You have hid her from us Geralt there has to be a reason."  
"You're all . . . opinionated."  
"And you're so very laid back Geralt? Of the the three you don't budge even when you aught to."  
"I just don't want to be a position to chose between her and you. You think she's this fragile flower, you already don't like her. Eskel has his close minded doubts, Lambert met her when . . . We were having a bad day-"  
"You love your brother Eskel don't you?"  
"Sure." Geralt shrugged, only grimicing slightly at being cut off.  
"On how many things do you two see eye to eye?"  
"I'm four inches taller than him. We haven't seen eye to eye since I hit my growth spurt." It was gloating but it was acknowledgement, perhaps Geralt had hid her to delay while not quite the inevitable not something worth delaying. "I have to toeralte the worst of Eskel, he doesn't have to tolerate the worst of Cordelia." He did point out the slight difference.  
"Well best to blitz with the best of her then Geralt." Vesemir had a lot of answers but not all of them.  
"You will like her." Geralt added. "If you ask her nicely she can probably help with that dripping sink that you claim echos the halls."  
"Now I see the appeal Geralt. It's not about happiness you just found someone you could pawn your responsibilities on. This is your house you know you should show some pride in-"  
"Thanks Ves." They'd be here forever if Vesemir got started on the house. Geralt picked up the projector and began making his way down stairs.

"Hold it!" After Geralt had checked and cleaned the equipment the plan was to go get something for dinner, he had wanted to have a good day, so surely nothing would go according to plan.  
"What Lambert?" He kept his hand on to door knob, maybe it was apparent he didn't have time to talk his brother would let him leave.  
"What the fuck is the big idea?"  
"Big idea about what?" Geralt let out a sigh, leaning his back against the door he had just hoped to rush through.  
"I had plans today you idiot!"  
"Good." Geralt did not exactly see how that concerned them but he was sure Lambert would shout it. Geralt would let him have his tantrum if it moved the day forward, Lambert was easy to anger but they were normally quick bursts, not long lasting brawls.  
"Not the fuck anymore I don't! Now thanks to you I have to sit and watch Rancho Texas for the eight hundreth time! It's not even in english Geralt!"  
"It's not?" Cordelia was a bit surprised, Geralt had told her it was a western how was she supposed to know it was a polish western?  
"It has subtitles and I doubt it would be any more interesting if it were in english." Geralt shrugged. "You don't have to stay if you've got plans Lambert. Though reading might do you some good."  
"Like fuck I don't! I'll never hear the end of it! It sure is a shame that today's genration doesn't value the importance of family. When I was raising you I had hopes-"  
"Ok Ves I get it. What do you want me to do about it?" He could handle one lecture from Vesemir, not that plus a spookily accurate reenactment of one.  
"You could always . . . invite Vorana. I doubt Geralt and Vesemir would mind terribly." Cordelia offered before Lambert could go off again. She didn't know the man well enough to let him bark himself tired.  
"Who is Vorana?" Geralt prided himself on his hearing, he doubted there had been a name boomed at him by his brother that he hadn't heard.  
"Lambert's girlfriend." Cordelia shrugged.  
"She's not my girlfriend . . . How the fuck do you know Vorana?" It took Lambert longer than it should have to get to that obvious question.  
"I don't. You are just . . . loud. In everything you do. The both of you . . . are loud." They both watched Lambert's face go from angry to confused to somewhere between recognition and lost entirely.  
"Wait were you listening to me and Vorana have sex? I don't care if you're into weird shit but-"  
"No!" Well Geralt had gotten her to the front door without having her spine curl out of her skin in anxiety, anything more than that had been pushing it. "Well I mean yes I heard you have sex. I heard you fight over who lost the remote, I heard you try to teach her some video game that involved dodging and she was not too keen on that strategy, you were very supportive. I wasn't keeping an ear peeled for sex. You're just loud. I'm-"  
"Don't be sorry." Geralt cut her off, this wasn't a house where sorry counted for much of anything.  
"I'm not loud. You're nosy." Lambert had atleast stopped shouting, he was winding down.  
"You are loud. You're loud right now. Ves can probably hear you breathing." It was amusing watching a breath hold in Lambert's chest before his brain caught up and pointed out he did near air.  
" _You_ didn't hear us so I couldn't have been that loud."  
"If I hadn't learned to tune you out I'd have gone deaf years ago. Cordelia hasn't mastered that skill yet. She can't tune anything out. If you had any thoughts rolling around in that skull of yours she'd be listening for them." Maybe Lambert would be good practice, if she could tune him out, she could tune anything out.  
"So who were your plans with?" Cordelia dared to speak again.  
"None of your business." Lambert frowned when no other answer came.  
"Ok." Cordelia nodded. "Like I said Vorana is more than welcome to come." It was a sweet little smile, not fond like the ones for Geralt but something still friendly, still patient.  
"Can we go now? Or is there something else you wanted to whine about?" If Geralt leaned any harder into the door he might have phased right through it.  
"I . . . fine."  
"Does this not girlfriend of yours that you don't have plans with eat food?" Geralt was capable of being accommodating. If someone was even partially important to Lambert that made them partially important to Geralt.  
"She's . . . ."  
"Hmm?" Geralt doubted he had been too gruff with his brother but maybe Lambert had similar concerns about Vorana as he did with Cordelia, worried the wolves that lived here would chew her up and spit her out.  
"Vegetarian." Geralt and Cordelia just stared at Lambert for a long moment not baffled by the fact but the hushed haunted tone that Lambert stated it, as if it was a truely unspeakable trait.  
"Neat." Cordelia knew how to edge her words, comforting but not coddling, it seemed to take some of the furrow out of Lambert's brow. "You know that's not . . . _that_ weird right? You leaned in like you were going say she boils the bones of children and lives off the broth."  
"The fuck?!" Lambert actually mustered a chuckle at the black humor that hid camouflaged by Cordelia's quiet niceness.  
"I can learn how to cook a veggie burger Lambert. Come on." Geralt hooked his hand around the back of Cordelia's neck and quite literally pulled her them from the house.

"Are you alright?" He didn't have to check in as often as he did anymore, he could tell just by her presence how she was feeling but it had become a bit of a habit and Geralt at his base was a creature of habit.  
"I'm good." She smiled not lifting her head from the car window she was leaning on.  
"You've been quiet." The ride there, shopping and now the ride back it had only been the words necessary to complete those tasks.  
"You seemed like you wanted some quiet." She shrugged.  
"Hmm?" Did he seem irritated? He hadn't been growling again had he?  
"I don't know if it was Lambert or whatever you were up to at the crack of dawn."  
"I woke up at six."  
"On a weekend. Weekends don't start before noon."  
"Hmm." He had thought about sleeping in, she was nestled so warmly against him, he could have let himself just give in to his mattress. He hadn't, he had things to do, but the thought had passed his mind.  
"Point is you seemed a bit bogged down by the day already. Thought I'd give you some time to walk it out. Declutter your thoughts."  
"My thoughts were not cluttered." His thoughts weren't frenzied or endless like Cordelia's doomsday possibilities but they were heavy. His mother his brothers his uncle, Cordelia, Jaskier Jarre Iola, just all the people who mattered. His train of thought was linear, rational and **heavy**. It was all weighing on him and only on him, he had to find a balance. She was easing back on the need for his attention until he had time to adjust said weight, till he was comfortable again. It was a kind gesture and maybe something he didn't know he had needed. " _Can_ you talk?" Perhaps he should have said thank you but instead he made another request. Some anxiety sneaked into that smile. Which wasn't fair, she was trying her best, it wasn't her fault Geralt couldn't carry the weight of his thoughts and hold a conversation.  
"Oh." But anxious as it was the smile was still fond, still willing to stay in place for him. "Sorry I didn't mean to make it awkward or seem like I don't want to know what was bothering you." He could hear her chastising herself, thinking herself unsupportive, that couldn't stand.  
"No. You were right, I still don't feel like talking." Still he hadn't said thank you just explained himself better. "But you don't have to sit in silence for me. Just ramble about something so I know you're alright?" He was greedy, he wanted the quiet of his head as well as the ambient noise of her niceness.  
"And you'll just hmm every once in a while? Confirm you're still alive?"  
"Hmm." He smiled as her face went from his window to his shoulder and started explaining how this was a shrude plan on his part, that between Lambert Jarre and Jaskier Geralt would have to get used to just more words than there was open air. "Hmm." At a red light he stopped her mid sentence kissing her to a hault. "Thank you." It had finally worked it's way to the surface.  
"For rambling?"  
"For that . . . for this." His face tilted towards hers for a moment. "For you."  
"Be careful Geralt. You won't be able to say you're not nice if you keep saying sweet little things like that."  
"Hmm." He wasn't nice, he didn't say sweet little things, he didn't like people, but he had her and all those things rubbed off on him. Just as his calm confident safety rubbed off on her. This was how care worked, not one sided bending and breaking but just mixing in a way that made them fine apart but good together.

"Wait whose Szagi is she the smuggler or the geologist." Jaskier was squinting at the screen, he was oddly focused on the film.  
"Szagi is the horse. Not the right species or sex." Geralt didn't know how Jaskier could be so focused yet missing the basics, though Jaskier was more about the feeling of things than pesky details or the grander picture.  
"Are you sure?" Jaskier squinted harder.  
"Szagi's my favorite character. I'm sure."  
"The horse is . . . it's a story of romance and friendship, adventure the polish wild west . . .which is a thing . . . aparently. Geralt it . . . of course the horse is you favorite part." Jaskier rolled his eyes as his voice got flat. "Well the other actors do seem a bit green, the horse never over acts his lines." Jaskier did sometimes try to find common ground with Geralt, tried from his perspective to make sense of how removed from people Geralt was content in being.  
"Ever the professional." Geralt found himself explaining the plot of the movie to Jaskier, thinking to himself the last time this movie had been new to anyone, the last time anything at his home had been really new. Yes things changed, events happened, but his home life was always predictable and he liked it that way. New he was noticing, in small controllable doses did not mean he had to sacrifice the comfortable feeling of home. Just like the novelty of calming Cordelia, new inherently couldn't last, couldn't stay new but maybe it could effortlessly ease into that comfortable feeling of home.

"Cordelia mine are burnt trade with me." It was unclear if Jarre didn't have an understanding of how open flames worked or if he just really liked turning marshmallows to charcoal briquettes but this was atleast the third set he had traded with Cordelia's beautfuly nurtured commercial ready toasted balls of sugar.  
"Fine." They turned to ash and goo simultaneously in her hand as she took them, cracking and sticking all over as she shoved them in her mouth.  
"So do you do everything anyone says? Is that your thing?" Eskel had a problem with Geralt's lifestyle choice, Geralt knew that but it hadn't truly been a problem in ages. Home was home, Geralt's itches were scratched elsewhere or snuck into the basement out of sight. It had been so long since someone even remotely bridging those worlds had been in the picture. "Lets see. . . be useful grab me a drink from inside?" It was a begnine request but it was said testingly, patronizingly. Before Geralt could put Eskel in his place the other side to that coin spoke up.  
"She aint a fucking genie." Jarre cursed through staypuff. "She's not your servant. Have sone manners and get your own damn drink." Jarre didn't hate the lifestyle but he didn't trust Cordelia's safety in it, didn't trust Geralt and what were Geralt's brothers if not more of the same.  
"Hey if he's going to keep his slave around then-"  
"Eskel!" Geralt stood and so did his slightly shorter brother, just nose to nose for a hot moment.  
"I'm trying to watch the movie." That was Vesemir's way of stating don't murder each other.  
"Chill the fuck out." Lambert and Vorana were very much not watching the movie but a murder would likely kill the vibe they were going for, being very much not a couple making out in the grass.  
"What do you want to drink Eskel?" Cordelia was quiet and surprisingly calm under the circumstances.  
"Cordelia you don't have to-" Geralt was still staring right through Eskel's skull.  
"I know." But she just stood, waiting patiently for Eskel's drink request.  
"Uh. . ." It was clear he had just stated the question to prove a point as Eskel clumsily lifted his beer bottle and handed it to her.  
"A please wouldn't kill you. Just a thought." She was already walking into the house.  
"Assholes." Jarre was hot on her feet, giving a shove to Eskel's shoulder as he passed. "Cordelia we need to talk! Now!"

"Leave her alone Eskel." Geralt wanted to go fix what damage Jarre was surely doing but he'd deal with the devil he knew first. "Cordelia is-"  
"Just like the others."  
"What?"  
"It's not real Geralt. You care about her, a fuck of a lot more than she cares about you. That's all I'm saying. She's toying with you."  
"Eskel what are you talking about?" Where had Eskel gotten all these snide views of Cordelia from?  
"You're telling me those two aren't fucking?" He pointed at the door Jarre had just slammed behind him. This got a pert little chuckle out of Iola.  
"It's not funny Iola." Jaskier seemed to share in this amusement that had no place being there. "Well a little funny."  
"You think this is funny?" Eskel had turned his ire to Iola. Iola was not intimidated, not in the slightest, there was no apology, no shrinking, she stood and just shrugged at the wall of a man asking wordlessly so what if she did? "If you think I'm just going to let her barge into our house-"  
_'My house.'_ Geralt thought whistfuly to himself for a moment.  
"Fuck whoever she pleases. Yes sir no sir whatever on her knees service she's good at to get my brother-"  
"Good at is relative." Jaskier could always find a way to get a word in edgewise.  
"Huh?"  
"You're speaking very loudly and very gruffly about something you don't know anything about." Loud was a family trait, Geralt was loud in his own ways, loud when he needed to be, but in the moment he was silent, trying to figure out how to fix this.  
"I've been watching this whole night and your friend has had his eyes glued to Cordelia. There's something going on there and Geralt might not give a shit when he's being used and maybe that's fine in your little messed up world, but he's a real person you know that? He doesn't deserve to be disrespected by-"  
"Because Jarre is just like you." Jaskier nudged in again, he still looked very . . . amused, which contrasted harshly against Eskel's very not amused state.  
"What?"  
"Shhh!" Vesemir chimed again. Maybe Vesemir had been warning Geralt about this, preparing him for this.  
"You don't trust Cordelia because . . . if I'm infering right maybe Geralt's past relationships have been a bit one sided? I'd go on what's Geralt's told me but he's not one that kisses and tells."  
"He's . . . "  
"An adult who can speak for himself." Geralt pointed out. "Eskel I don't need you to look over my shoulder. I know what I'm doing." Since when did Eskel even care this much? Who was he even thinking back to that had been so bad that Cordelia would forever live in their shadow.  
"She's up to something. They're up to something I don't know what game-"  
"Jarre!" Jaskier didn't nudge, he shouted, at the top of his strong lungs, loud was contagious.  
"No excuse Cordelia! What the fuck do you want?" Jarre had whipped the door open like he hoped it'd break.  
"Geralt's brother thinks you and Cordelia are having sex."  
"Great Geralt's brother's on crack! Any other breaking fucking news?" Jarre was halfway back in the door.  
"Are you?" Loud and to the point, the brothers were different but had a common language between them.  
"I'd be more likely to fuck Geralt than Cordelia!"  
"What?"  
"I think the young man's trying to say he prefers the company of other men." Vesemir's ability to keep focused on his film, never turning once to the spiraling chaos around him was commendable.  
"I . . . " Eskel was trying to processes fast enough to shout again but the door slammed before he had a response. "Someone could have told me!"  
"Well you've seemed supper reasonable and understanding of people up till this point I can't imagine why no one did." Jaskier finally sat back down. "That's why we didn't say anything. Figure thats why Geralt let you bark in his face."  
"You knew?"  
"Jarre's her best friend." Geralt was still guarded and pent up but he gave an affirming half shrug. "It helps a little to know she disapproves of his taste in men as much as he does with me."  
"Yes Yes they are both too pure and innocent for this world." Jaskier sighed, Geralt and his family were late to this game.  
"Jarre cares about Cordelia. He does not like me. You are not helping Eskel." Geralt finally found room to rightfuly speak. "He thinks I'll hurt her. That's why he stares." Geralt was stuck between two unfortunate truths Jarre would always be leary of him and it appeared for reasons not yet understood Eskel would always have a resentment of Cordelia.  
"Isn't that the whole thing? You get to hurt other people with whips and chains and shit. Then spend the rest of the relationship groveling as an apology?"

"You think I hurt people?" Geralt's eyes got wide. He felt truly wounded by that statement, he felt the hot air of anger leave him, he was cold, not sad but numbed. Eskel, his own brother thought he was someone who hurt others.  
"When you first started. You were with a girl . . . Who was that witch of a woman?"  
"I didn't hurt her." Geralt started with most pressing point as always. "You'll have to be more specific though. I think you have called every woman I've introduced you to . . . a witch." It was both a specific yet vague description, no particular face sprang to mind.  
"It's not my fault you have a type."  
"Does Cordelia remind you of any of the women I've been with?" He had never brought nice home, nice had never been his type.  
"One." Eskel went from scathing to somewhere closer to simmering. "She kept you all to herself, and you let her. She wanted you to do all the things she wanted to do, go out with her friends. You don't like going out you don't like other people. She-"  
"I don't do anything I don't want to. I don't ask for things I don't want. If I did things for her, went places, it's because some part of that was what I wanted. It wasn't groveling for an apology." Geralt did not grovel, did not cave or crumble but there had been a time where he had wanted to be more, be different and he had allowed those who more and different came naturally to, try and show him how, try to make him part of their life. He had been the horse brought to water, he couldn't be forced to drink. He had done things, wanted to do them wanted to be with them, but he hadn't felt comfort, felt happy in those relationships, being anything he wasn't did nothing for him. "Whatever we did, was because we chose to." Eskel might have been right that those relationships had left Geralt feeling frustrated or unhappy, but they had not been forced or toxic, just a match that wasn't right. Something Vesemir said earlier in the day rung in the back of his head. _'Lambert was an angry impulsive child. Eskel needed constant attention. You just wanted to fix everything.'_ They weren't children anymore. Lambert was still angry and impulsive. Geralt still wanted to fix things. Eskel didn't need to be a constant center of attention but maybe he hadn't shook the feeling that if attention was taken from him it wouldn't come back. "Who do you think suggested tonight?" That seemed to at least get Eskel thinking. "I asked for this. I wanted this. She doesn't do everything I ask but she was willing to sit through movie night because it's fun to me."  
"It's not water torture." Vesemir stated a bit insulted.  
"I asked Jaskier to come because-"  
"Best friend." Jaskier pulled on Eskel's sleeve, pointing to himself whispering gleefully. "Best friend . . . Right here."  
"Iola is someone I'm comfortable around." Geralt rolled his eyes. "I asked Cordelia to invite Jarre because I wanted her family to meet mine. That was a mistake." Geralt was feeling this whole day had been a mistake."You don't have to worry about Cordelia taking me anywhere I don't want to be. She doesn't want to take me from you Eskel. You're doing a fine job of that all on your own." Geralt was fatigued, the weight on him growing heavier. His brother thought so little of something so important to him. Did he not trust that Geralt was in control of his own life or was it truly that he thought Cordelia some sort manipulator Geralt was too dumb or gulible to see?  
"Where are you going?" Eskel noticed Geralt just turn and begin walking away, that wasn't like him, to just give in, tail between his legs.  
"I don't like repeating myself." Geralt was not surrendering or backing down, he was walking with purpose. He wasn't about to do this all over again with Jarre. He had already been chastised and scrutinized more than he cared for, he'd rather things, even things he did not like to be carried out efficently.

Geralt opened the door to Jarre ripping apart his kitchen. "Jarre stop! What the fuck are you even looking for?" Cordelia gave Geralt an apologetic shrug, cringing as another cabinet bent hard at it's hinges.  
"For the amount of time you spend here. They should be here, if he really cared-"  
"They're in the broiler." Geralt really just needed Jarre to stop destroying his pantry, his to do list was long enough as it was a squeaky door would plauge him for months.  
"What? Oh you heard there was a snowball's chance I'd have sex with you and came running? Surprised your pants aren't down round your ankles." Jarre hadn't really heard Geralt's words but what else was new?  
"I don't want to have sex with you." Geralt sighed this was getting ridiculous, just petty squawking.  
"You were looking for my oreos?" Cordelia cocked her head to the side staring at Jarre somewhat confused and exhausted. She went to the oven and pulled open the lower tray pulling out a package of oreos and handed them to Jarre with a smile. "All you had to do was ask. You're grasping at straws now Jarre."  
"Why are they in the oven?"  
"That's where they're safe. Out of sight out of mind. I will eat anything available if I'm hungry enough and I _care_ those are Cordelia's. My family doesn't . . . they have a more communal mentality when it comes to food. So I put them there so they won't get destroyed." For the first time since he had ever met Jarre smiled albeit very briefly at Geralt, like maybe he had gained one small point in his favor, something he had done wasn't deviant or despised.  
"I've told you Jarre. Every way I know how. Geralt is-" Geralt could see how talked out and frustrated she looked. While Eskel had been throwing out accusations to Geralt it was likely the same was going on between Jarre and her.  
"Jarre is there anything I can do to make you believe I won't hurt Cordelia?" Direct was always the best way Geralt figured.  
"I . . ." Jarre actually seemed to be considering it. "No . . . I'm sorry I can't shake it." The shake of his head did seem somewhat apologetic.  
"Hmm." Geralt could at least appreciate the man's honesty. "Fine. Could we make a truce then? This is growing old and neither of us are backing down."  
"A truce?" Jarre was skeptical but listening.  
"What if I promise to give your sundays back? Could you hold all your reasons for Cordelia to leave me for that one day?" They were best friends, maybe Jarre had more than just the fear of Geralt hurting her to sour him on the relationship. Maybe he felt Cordelia was being taken from him. Reasoning with Jarre was easier, it was one step removed and allowed Geralt to think rationaly. Debating with Eskel had been harder, cut deeper but if this theory worked with Jarre maybe it would eventually work with his brother.  
"You do love a good slide show." Cordelia gave a hopeful smile, maybe the arguing had finally crested.  
"I do." Jarre nodded. "Fine." He nodded again, he was finally listening, finally hearing Geralt's words. His face flared again and Geralt had no idea what he could have possibly done in half a second. "Do not call her a slave she doesn't like it and-"  
"I didn't call her that. I don't . . . I will make sure Eskel does not call her that again." A want hit Geralt and as every time before he spoke it simply. "Would you give this a try again? Sundays are yours but I want to try this again. This was . . . good."  
"Good?" Jarre's eyebrows couldn't have rose any higher.  
"Think about it?"  
"Fine. Come on lets go back out." Jarre had finally calmed his rage enough to go back among the group.  
"We'll be out in a minute Jarre." Cordelia was placing her oreos back in their hiding spot.  
"Ok." There was no push, no question of safety, no threat to Geralt. Perhaps Jarre really would save it till next sunday. This was what progress looked like.

"Are you alright Geralt?" Cordelia was in the process of closing all the cabinets and drawers that had been pried open.  
"No." That brought her to a stop.  
"Tell me what's wrong?" Geralt was a bit surprised she didn't take her tactic from earlier, just giving him time and space. She was infront of him, not touching but just standing in his eyeline, patiently waiting. Geralt hooked his hands under her arms, lifting her up to the counter, stepping in between her legs, leaning his forehead against hers, for a moment just breathing it was a fluid commanding chain of events. He just wanted her close, squarely in a small space he could keep safe and controlled, he wanted all of her fondness to sooth over him and nowhere, no one else.  
"I've had to have a lot of conversations today." His eyes were closed, his breathing steady as he spoke.  
"That tends to happen when you throw a party."  
"This isn't a party."  
"It's a gathering of friends and family for food and entertainment. What would you call it?"  
"Frustrating." Geralt grumbled.  
"Yet you want to do it again?"  
"I didn't want these conversations, but I needed them . . . needed to know." He was finding himself feeling attacked again. He placed a hand on each of her shoulders to protect her from the invisible threat. His jaw clenched prepped for a fight that wasn't there.  
"Know what?" For a second he didn't want to admit it, wanted to let it just churn and eat at his insides. If she knew what he now knew would it crush her? He wouldn't let it, he'd keep her safe from the ugly truth. "Geralt?"  
"Why did you agree to get Eskel a drink?" He tried to change the subject. "He was mocking you."  
"I know." Cordelia nodded softly. Of corse she knew that, she saw mockery and judgment where there wasn't any, and Eskel hadn't suddenly learned to be subtle.  
"Then why? You shouldn't try to please everyone Cordelia. I know you-"  
"I wasn't trying to please Eskel. I don't think I can please Eskel." She sounded a bit sad.  
"Then why? For me I don't expect you to-"  
"I didn't want you to have to fight your brother." The sadness only grew.  
"We fight all the time."  
"I know. You are all very loud, trust me I know." Even her chuckle was pained.  
"Then-"  
"You wanted a good day." This caused Geralt's eyes to pop open. "You deserve a good day Geralt." She didn't ask, just leaned in and kissed him softly. "You deserve all the good days ever made." She kissed him again. "I can't make days good. I can do my best to not make them worse."  
"You make days good." His kiss wasn't soft but it was fond, nearly pleading, nearly loving. "Hmm." She deserved the truth, she deserved everything.  
"What else?" So she had seen the diversion for what it was but had just let him go at his pace.  
"My family doesn't trust that I care about you for the right reasons. Ves thinks it has to do with my mother . . . " He paused waiting for Cordelia to ask for his sob story but the air just remained silent. "You can ask. I'll tell you." He couldn't make himself look like it was a topic he wanted to dwell on, he didn't, but he tried to look . . . open.  
"It's about what helps. If telling me helps then tell me Geralt. You have my full attention. If you don't want to talk about it . . . just say what you want. That's when you're best."  
"Hmm." Geralt smiled, some of his confidence that had been chipped at throughout the day restored, he was who he was and at least one person understood and appreciated that. "Eskel thinks I care . . . to make up for hurting you."  
"You don't hurt me." She moved his hand from her shoulder to the nape of her neck. It was such a vulnerable part of her, a spot not often touched without care or trust, that's why it was better than a hug or a kiss on the cheek it was a trusted, intimate touch that he was allowed. "It is possible that hurt doesn't mean the same thing to him that it does to you."  
"Hmm." It was possible, Geralt did have a tendency to take words at face value, perhaps he had taken some of his brothers words as sharper than intended. "He thinks that I'm letting you change me to keep you."  
"Do you feel like you have to change to be with me Geralt?" That was a tough question, it wasn't one of those yes or nos they both preferred.  
"I have changed to be with you." He had made friends, he had gone out to public places, he had learned how to speak more, open up more, learned to be gentle for her. "But you never asked those things of me. I wanted them." He had made the choice of befrending Jaskier and Iola, he had gone bowling before even having a full conversatuon with her, had wanted her to know what went wrong with his scene, he had an itch that was just for her focus and he wanted to be gentle and caring to scratch it. He had never been asked by Cordelia for any more than he was, but he _had_ changed. "Not much." He was still the same serious stoic wallflower he had been, he hadn't turned into something indistinguishable from what he was before.  
"Not much change is still noticeable when it comes to you Geralt. You're like my big reliable swiss clock."  
"Hmm." Most would find being compared to a piece of machinery to be insulting, it warmed at Geralt's chest, the fact it was preceded by 'my' didn't hurt.  
"Like you and Jarre. Eskel doesn't have to like me . . . and accepting that I won't hurt you will take time. I believe you told me once we have time."  
"We have time." He nodded. Geralt liked to fix things, if something was broken in his house it was his job to fix it and while it still sat poorly inside him that there was a rift in his home, caused by something that made him happy, he didn't have to fix it all by night's end, they had time. He kissed her again. He wasn't sure she had said anything he didn't already know or if it was just the way she assured him that while he didn't control the world around him, he was in control of himself but he felt lighter. He felt the weight on his chest was no longer crushing him. He helped her off the counter and closed the remaining drawers before stepping outside.

"Just take out the whole Cordelia issue. Then would you?" Jaskier had a grin of mischief about him.  
"I don't know him." Jarre shrugged.  
"You're thinking too hard. I'm speaking purely asthetics. Take his personality out of the equasion, charming anti hero that he may be."  
"So you're asking me if Geralt's ass was a hole in the wall would I fuck him?" Jarre replied flatly.  
"No. . . . Well yes." Jaskier was being shallow and fanciful there was no need to paint it otherwise.  
"Don't answer that." Lambert groaned.  
"Why not?" Jarre shot his friend a questioning glance.  
"Because I don't want to imagine my friend fucking my brother that's why."  
"Well you've said it which means you already have the image in your-"  
"Nope." Lambert shook his head. "What is your name again?"  
"Jaskier. I'm sure Geralt's told you all about me but I-"  
"Have a dumb name and I don't like you. Imagine Cordelia fucking your mom. Not something you want to piicture is it?"  
"Cordelia not tonight, my mom has a migraine. Why don't you try your luck with that barista at the coffee shop you were making eyes at this morning."  
"What?" Lambert was confused.  
"You asked him to imagine it . . . Jaskier has an imagination." Geralt gave a half a smirk, Jaskier was by way of being impossible to ignore, working his way familiar with Geralt's family.  
"Didn't your father leave your mother for a barista?"  
"No no they're far more reasonable than that. They did what any sane couple would do." Jaskier was quick to correct Jarre.  
"Relationships are hard work. Do not rib at your parents for seeking profesional help. Even a couple madly in love-" Vesemir began a lecture.  
"Not that reasonable . . . the next most rational thing. Staid in a loveless marriage for decades letting the resentment for each other build up and clog their arteries, racing each other to an untimely death." Jaskier wasn't one for lectures, too much reason not enough fantasy.  
"So you hate your parents?" Eskel spoke from his corner.  
"I love them. . . Separately . . . in very small doses." Jaskier shooed the seriousness away again, he could be silly just as long as they could be solemn. "Now this family. You all are a riot! I could banter with you for months." At this Lambert looked well spooked and the smallest bit amused.  
"Hmm." As awkward as this conversation was it brought even more weight off of Geralt. Eskel was still sneering in a corner but Lambert and even Ves to a degree were more welcoming of his companions. "Months may be pushing it Jaskier . . . small doses."  
"It is a family trait I suppose." Jaskier shrugged with a smile.  
"Oh." Cordelia did that often, just remebered she had intended to speak after getting caught up in listening to others. "Here Eskel." The drink asked for close to an hour ago was placed in front of his face. Geralt watched the interaction, waiting for all the tension that had left to sweep right back in. Eskel took the drink and said nothing, which was sadly an improvement, better than some insult or accusation, maybe it was a cautious effort, Eskel not wanting to shove his foot in his mouth again, not wishing to push Geralt farther away. "You're welcome." Geralt could hear how the cold shoulder pulled some anxiety from Cordelia but all the ease she embodied for Geralt, she was borrowing some for Eskel, she didn't hate him and that's all he could ask of her. "Vesemir, I know we've been rowdy guests . . . but we do thank you for sharing . . ." She was drawing a huge blank.  
"No one ever watches it the first time. That's what gives it replay value. Cordelia you are trouble but not of the rowdy variety."  
"Thank You!" Eskel snorted. Cordelia's body didn't go rigid in anxiety but got that lax understanding sadness about her, it was a posture of hers Geralt detested. He walked up behind her, an arm around her waist pulling her back flush against his chest, she had comforted him all day, she needed reassurance too.  
"You're fine Cordelia."  
"I know."  
"You snuck up on us Cordelia we're not a family who take well to ambushes." Vesemirs words were serious, almost strategic.  
"I'm-"  
"Don't be sorry Cordelia." Sorry had not staure here. "Be confident. Be better, Geralt needs you to be the best that you can."  
"I'm trying." Cordelia couldn't figure out exactly what Vesemir was pitching to her but it didn't seem to matter. She wanted someone, anyone in Geralt's family to approve of her.  
"Try harder."  
"Ves, she's-"  
"The same goes for you Geralt. Just because your pleased with yourselves doesn't mean you rest on your laurrels always strive for better."  
"Don't you think you're being a teensy bit harsh?" Jaskier was the whimsy to Vesemir's pragmatism. "They're just dating. Sure Cordelia's spent a few nights over the house but it's not she's with child or anything dramtic like that. It's not that serious."  
"Relationships take discipline and hard work." Pragmatism held fast.  
"They also should be fun. If something can't be fun, you're wasting everyone's time." Whimsy countered. The night would teeter back and forth like this, from serious to comedic, from rational to impractical. It wasn't the good day Geralt had hoped for but it was good in it's own way, it was a step closer to his goal.

"Did you have fun?" He could hear it as she laid out on the bed. She was tapped of confidence, she had wrangled her anxiety all night but she was tired and she was doubting and she needed Geralt to calm her.  
"I wouldn't have asked to do it again if I hadn't enjoyed myself at parts." He watched her get lost in thought, sad thoughts, he always stumbled when it came to sad. "Cordelia will you tell me what you're thinking?"  
"They don't have to like me, I know, and accepting me will take time. . . which we have." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, talk herself off a ledge. "I had just hoped . . . family is so important to you Geralt. I had hoped they would have liked me better . . . I wish I could be someone they liked."  
"I am not disappointed in you." He laid down behind her, kissing the back of her neck. She didn't respond, didn't say anything at all. "Do you believe me Cordelia?"  
"I . . ." He could feel her tensing. This was something that needed to be fixed by night's end.  
"You think I'm lying to be nice." She was quiet again. "Yes or No Cordelia?"  
"Yes." It was a soft admission.  
"Hmm. I don't like to think my word mean nothing to you."  
"It doesn't mean nothing Geralt-"  
"If I say something I mean it." He bit at the back nape of her neck, the vulnerable spot, she flinched under the pain but not away from him just to welcome it deeper. "Do you understand?"  
"Yes."  
"I would not lie to you. Not to be mean, not to be nice. I want you to trust me." He turned her over onto her back, he placed his palm to her throat, even more vulnerable, less intamite, more primal, he could feel her pulse tick up under his palm. "Do you trust me?"  
"Yes." He didn't grip but he pressed firmer.  
"Do you trust me?" He asked again because he was transitioning, from conversation to control and that was something that had to see a firm realization in Cordelia to progress.  
"I trust you Geralt." Anyone would be focused in a moment like this, he had her very passage of breath under his grasp. Her focus wasn't fearful as it could have been though, that pulse thumping at his palm had leveled out, almost bizarrely calming at what her body should have viewed as a threat.  
"I won't hurt you." His fingers didn't curl but the space between his thumb and fingers pressed up.  
"I trust you Geralt." He couldn't tell if he was holding her breath or she was, but he had her total focus in the moment.  
"Cordelia are you alright?" He had meant to work at the sadness, fix her doubt it him. His actions were rarely as up for interpretation as his words. He was more confident that he could show her that he was trustworthy with less room for error than trying to explain it.  
"Yes." Her eyes were wide, not in panic just in focus there was a want there that was different than those he had seen before.  
"I want to press harder. I want you to trust me." He would not choke her, she was not safe enough for that, not settled in a space where that wouldn't end badly. That was also not something you just demanded of someone in hopes they enjoyed it because there was no gray area there, either you very much did or very much didn't.  
"I trust you Geralt." So not choking, just taking trust, controlling it, holding and pressing into it, harder.  
"Cordelia how do you feel?" Geralt wasn't upset when she didn't respond right away, he could see herself adjusting to the increased pressure, could see her eyes slowly getting lost somewhere for a minute. She could have that, he wanted her to have that space.  
"Safe." It was a warm lazy word, like he had woken her up from a pleasant nap. "Held." The want there, that was **her** want, her core itch, she found focus in being kept in place, firm, assertively, controled.  
"That's what you like Cordelia?" He was waiting for a tense that he'd have to ease her through but when her anxiety came it wasn't tense, it was loose and bare.  
"Yes." She was worried, it was that same worry from before, that he was disappointed that she was underwhelming but she didn't burrow and shut down this time, just trusted.  
"Thank you Cordelia." His hand staid motionless as he leaned in and kissed her. He wanted her to know he heard her, he was appreciative of her finally even hinting at her desires. She was opening up just a bit for him. "I want to watch you enjoy this. Can you do that for me? Are you alright Cordelia" This transition had been fast, he felt the need to check in again, he had her vulnerable physically and emotionally he wanted to be gentle, caring, he wanted her words to be his mantra. 'safe. held.' Her mind moved a mile a minute she wanted someone to stop her, secure her, hold her somewhere safe. He wanted that person to be him, he didn't want her to doubt that.  
"Yes."  
"Good." He didn't move any more than he absolutely had to, this wan't a full blown scene or even just a fun roll in the sheets, it was somehow less than that and more at the same time. His free hand dipped within her pants, fingers searching out and slowly coaxing at nerves. He wanted to watch her just release, he wasn't seeking out a mind blowing orgasm, just for her to know she was safe, she was held and he would please her in that space. He didn't rush but he also didn't tease he let it build at a steady rhythm.  
"P . . " She started but stalled remembering how that word had been received the day prior.  
"Ask me Cordelia. Ask me for it." She liked to ask, that was another part of her itch. He had misjudged it as not trusting he'd deliver when he had heard it first but now he heard it for what it was. How she wanted to ask, wanted that reassurance not that he would give it but that she could have it. "You don't need it so soon but you want it so you should ask."  
"Please." It wasn't a proper question and had this been a proper scene he would demanded more but this was just for trust, just for feeling comfortable. "Please Geralt." Her breath was hitching and her hips were shifting.  
"Wait." He wanted control, wanted to be heard, listened to, understood. He watched to see how she would react, in a moment of giving into her want if she could still focus on him. He could feel her groan right at his palm still nestled at her throat, felt her thighs clench around his hand still keeping it's even pace, for a moment he thought had been ignored in pursuit of pleasure but then he heard a whine follow the groan, she had heard him, listened, waited. "Thank you Cordelia." He kissed her again, she wasn't as soft this time, she had reached up best she could to meet him, needing to focus on this kiss instead of giving into the release knocking on her gates. "Ask me for it."  
"Please . . . can I . . . I want to cum."  
"You want it?"  
"Yes."  
"Ask **me** for it." He got a bit greedy for just a bit more. "Ask _me_ to do it."  
"Please Geralt . . . make me cum."  
"Good. You listen so well Cordelia." He heard that thoughtless whine of want again. "Cum for me Cordelia." It washed over her and he couldn't have been more pleased, with her, with himself, with the moment. He could check another step off of his list, while she hadn't given him a lot of words, she had trusted him enough, opened enough, asked enough. Cordelia might not have known all the things she liked and disliked, wanted or didn't but she trusted him now, trusted him to value the wants she did have.

"I do need my hand back." He had kept it there for a few minutes but it was growing sweaty in a less than pleasing way and he figure Cordelia could use her throat back. "Is that alright?" If she needed more time she could have it, she had trusted him, he didn't want to lose it by misjudging where her head was at.  
"Yes." His hand left her throat but his arm just fell to her waist laying there heavy.  
"Cordelia?"  
"I'm good Geralt." But her words seemed a bit too rushed, a little edgy. He adjusted them till they were spooning.  
"Please don't lie to be nice." He grumbled into her shoulder. "I want to be able to trust you too."  
"I . . . Is it ok that I'm still sad?"  
"You don't need my permission to feel sad." He waited till he felt her nod at his words. "I won't lie I would feel upset if you still think I'm disappointed in you."  
"I don't"  
"I wish they liked you more . . . I wish they weren't just as stubborn as me, if they weren't so sure they were right they'd see what I see."  
"No they wouldn't . . . Geralt you see . . . I don't know what you see when you look at me but it's not . . . what the world sees. It's not how I am."  
"You're nice." It was simple, what was there to debate about, what was there not to see? "You know that phrase . . . this is why we can't have nice things?"  
"Yeah?"  
"My family is that phrase . . . we cannot have nice things, simply aren't built for it."  
"That's not true Geralt." She sat up with those sad fucking eyes just laying into him.  
"That's why they can't get their head around you. Nice in our home has to be a trap . . . a Trojan horse."  
"Geralt stop saying that. You all are fully capable of-"  
"I understand their concern . . . what if I . . ."  
"You don't hurt me Geralt. You are not the monster you've let people paint you as. Stop thinking like that."  
"What if I start to love you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for anyone who is curious Rancho Texas is a real polish western . . . that is a thing.


	11. Open and shut

Her eyes lost all their sadness, for a moment lost emotion all together. As that moment stretched he thought he had broken her completely. "Cordelia?" He wasn't sure if this was because she thought he was moving too fast or too slow it had to be too something didn't it? Here when it came to loving someone it was no coincidence. She had nothing but welcomed acceptance and patience for everything but this. Why could he do everything else right but this? "I can't read your mind Cordelia. What . . . Are you upset with me?" He wanted to say they were fine everything was ok, but he had just promised not to lie.  
"No." She was thinking but it wasn't her flighty thoughts, her face scrunched as she thought very long and very hard on something.  
"Coredlia what about that has you . . . not upset?" He might not be able to fix it, nor would he grovel or change to be kept, but he had to know what he broke, he had to know what about him was broken, it was driving him crazy.  
"You don't have to Geralt." She gave an affirming nod like she approved of her own words. "You don't love me now. Or else you wouldn't have said start to-"  
"Hmm." She had been listening, disecting his words, they were important to her. "We're still getting to know one another." It's not that he didn't care, he cared very much, more than he'd cared for someone outside his family in ages. It was just that they were both like turtles just finally coming out of their shells under the sun, there was more than enough he didn't know about her to make love a fool hearty notion.  
"I know. So long as you like me more than most. I'm happy with that." She had a sweet effortless smile. How could she be fine with that? That smile was fond and focused right on him. No one is fine let alone happy with just being liked. She took his feelings with ease but she was settling for less, for less than what he felt and she deserved more.  
"I don't just like you Cordelia. I like Jaskier more than most people. You I . . ." Fond didn't fit him, that was a word to describe how she looked at him. Wanting her more than most made it sound just physical and it was beyond that. " I am focused on . . ." That wasn't enough either, that spoke to control and their relationship wasn't just the exhange of that. "Devoted to being with you." That sounded better, rolled warmly out his chest, reserved yet tender enough to explain how he felt, not a ten dollar word but spoke to the fact he didn't just like her. "What if I want to? Eventually." There was no harm in being prepared though, he saw no reason to believe it wasn't a point he would get to.  
"Then you can." She said it like it would be a choice and that . . . made sense. It wasn't some undeniable, unqantifiable force. He had been on both ends of the spectrum, his mother had chose to reject his love, Vesemir had chose to love him having nothing himself to gain. There had been women in love with him that Geralt had not felt the same and those he had reciprocated the feeling. Felt what he knew love to be and it still hadn't worked out. There were so many variables so few of which were in his control.

"What if you don't love me back? Will you tell me?" He did not want to be strung along nor did he wish for her fold under his adorment to please him.  
"A trade. All of me for all of you. I'll tell you if you promise to tell me the same."  
"You wouldn't tell me unless I'd already written my love for you out in blood." He wasn't trying to be mean just logical, she would not bare herself to that level of rejection.  
"Probably not." There was no disagreeing with logic.  
"What if I don't want to tell you?"  
"That you don't love me back? That's cruel Geralt" Half her smile fell.  
"No . . that I love you. What if I . . ."  
"Don't do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable right?" Did she understand what she was agreeing to? He was telling her he wasn't sure he could, even if he felt it, outwardly express that emotion. It was anxiety, his anxiety. The normally calm controlled practical man he was had the irrational fear if he voiced it some spell would be broken, he would be left.  
"Cordelia I just-"  
"Don't lie, not to be nice and not to be mean. I may ask you how you feel . . . if you still want to be with me but I won't ask you if you love me Geralt."  
"You should . . . You deserve to feel loved." He was a bit torn, here she was, ease embodied as always, giving him just the comfort he needed but he was picking at it like a scab.  
"Love can be complicated. How you feel about me is simple. I want it to stay simple."  
"Hmm." That tugged at his heart in the best and worst ways. "Simple." It was a word no one liked to be described as, it implied plain or average, perhaps dim or dull. While Geralt wasn't average and all the black clothing he wore would never drown him plain, he was sharp, observant, calculated all those things but he was, at his core, simple. She liked that, was fond of that, wanted simple, she wanted him. "You're . . .Cordelia I want . . ." He wanted to thank her for her ease, her niceness, her want of him. "Want you to stay."  
"I'm not going anywhere Geralt." She laid back in bed with him, cuddling up to his chest, she looked . . . relaxed.

"You've been sad lately . . . you look at me like I've upset you but you say that I haven't." He held her a bit closer to his chest. "I believe you. . . but If it's something I can help with I'd like to." He always preferred an action over a verbal thanks. If she was willing to stay he'd do his best to make sure at his side was a comfortable place to be, simple. He could hear Vesemir comparing this to Geralt's relationship with his mother but it wasn't them same. It wasn't the same because Cordelia wanted to stay, chose to stay.  
"I was sad . . . _for_ you. I thought you didn't want anyone to feel anything for you and if that was what you wanted that was heartbreaking but you're allowed to want what you want." She tailed her sentence with a soft shrug.  
"I have emotions." Geralt's voice staid even but he felt a bit dug at.  
"I didn't say you didn't feel, I said you didn't want to be felt for."  
"Quite the catch 22. Think I don't want anyone to feel for me and that made you feel sad . . . for me. That's why you wouldn't tell me?" She thought too much, felt too much, was too much but he wanted all of it.  
"I tried not to." Some of the sadness returned. "I'm not trying to go against what you want I'm trying to make-"  
"You can." He paused and put a bit more thought to it. "Feel things for me I mean." It was an awkward statement to say the least. "What made you think I wanted the rest of you but not your feelings for me? You make the best and worst faces when you're doing so. I want all of them." He was realizing how greedy she was making him. He had never been greedy for anything but with her he was, she allowed him to be.  
"Faces?" She got a bit red in the cheeks and was making some silly crosseyed look proving his point.  
"Hmm." Sometimes when she wasn't too much, those brief moments she was not so much focus as collected she was quite . . . adorable.  
"You wanted me to tell you if I found someone else, which I took as you didn't really want me to want _you_. And then-"  
"And then?" Geralt let out a heavy breath, it was good to know she had a running tally of when he had rebuffed her care. He hadn't meant it like that, of course he wanted her all to himself if he could, he had wanted her near the moment he met her.  
"After the flea market you told me to go, you were reliving something painful and you didn't want me to be there for you. You thought I'd have nothing but pity for you."  
"And then?" He frowned as he tried to pin point the underlying theme here, he never did anything without reason, there had to be a reason that he hadn't wanted those feelings. He had wanted her to stay but told her to go, that wasn't like him.  
"Today . . . all of today, your day, your brothers your uncle . . . it wasn't my place to feel any of the pressure of how important it was to you."  
"Hmm." Sorry was pointless, what was there to say here. "I want you to feel for me . . . even if I push it away. I'll work on . . . figuring out . . . why." He never shied away from what he wanted before, why in those moments?

"Geralt can I ask you a question?"  
"Hmm?" He pried at her walls often, she was owed a chisel or two. What deep dark parts of him was she going to try and shed light on? Would she be disappointed when there was not much there? "Yes." Be better he could also hear Ves chastise.  
"The days are counting down."  
"Hmm." He fought the impulse to say they tended to do that. Trying to listen like she listened, be welcoming of her words.  
"I've seen you now a couple times." She'd seen him with others, it wouldn't be the same. Did that work to his benefit or deficit? "And yet I still don't really have any idea . . . what you like. What to expect."  
"Hmm." He turned them, till she was straddling his hips, he took her hand and placed it at his throat, a mirror of how he had been earlier. "Do not press."  
"What you don't trust me?" She was teasing there was no sadness in her eyes.  
"I trust you." He didn't quite get how she could have felt so comfortable like this. "There is a reason I tie the knots Cordelia."  
"Have you tried it? Being on the other side?" Her thumb ran up his pulse.  
"I have, a couple times. I couldn't . . ." Couldn't wasn't the right word, he could do anything with enough determination. "I didn't like it. I don't like being . . . confined."  
"Do you like . . . confining others?" Her face looked like the words in her head didn't match the words coming out but that made sense as well. She didn't feel confined, she felt safe, held, it was a wholly different experience for her.  
"I will." He knew he would, he had no doubt, if she felt safe and held it would please him he was sure of it.  
"But personally Geralt. Do you like it?"  
"A knot is a knot." He stated frankly. "The uh . . art of it is lost on me." He had seen people really get lost in intricate sometimes purely decorative bindings, if he remembered right it was calles Kinbaku and while he could appreciate technique the practicality to him seemed unworth the lengthy effort. If she wanted him to learn fancy knotts he could but he wasn't going to lie and say the process in and of itself thrilled him.  
"Simple knots for a simple man." She smiled which didn't shed light on her preference but seemed to imply she wasn't aghast that he didn't get it.  
"You do tend to fidgit if left to your own devices a simple knot could fix that." He watched her smile quirk up a bit higher.  
"What do _you_ like Geralt?"  
"Not a fair question. You haven't told me and I've been asking longer."  
"I answer best I can." She retorted and he nodded almost apologetically.  
"You do." It wasn't the same, she was still sheepish to want, he wasn't. "I like to be . . . listened to." That was the simplest way he could put it, he liked to be in control, wanted his words and actions to dictate the moment, the methods of which he made sure his partner was truly listening to him, focused on him tended to vary, people varied and that was fine. He knew Cordelia's focus would come differently but he also knew how he got it in the past, he did have tendencies. "Normally I make people listen."  
"Do you like . . . making them listen?"  
"I do." She was still smiling so he hadn't scared her, but she was cautious, too many possibilities running through her head, maybe curious was a better word. "You've been a fairly good listener Cordelia I will hope I won't always have to make you listen." He could hope for that, for a way he'd seen others scratch an itch that he hadn't experienced, he always had to force, had to threaten, he wanted to ask her for things, state his wants simply and calm and have her give them to him. He didn't want to shove her to her knees but he did want her there. "But I did enjoy making you sorry." He had liked the way she had lost her train of thought, and whined for lack of words, just took the pain and trusted him not to hurt, she got lost in a fantasy there, he wanted his actions to do that. "It doesn't always have to be when you've done something wrong though . . . Not the first time. You haven't played in too long it wouldn't be safe-"  
"I understand." She nodded, wanting to stay on likes and dislikes, not on what the couldn't do due to her limitations, that was fair. "You can like it for later."  
"Hmm." She was optistic things would go well, it was a bit of added pressure but it wasn't a weight heavy on his chest, it was light spurring his enthusiasm. "I don't like anything with tassels." It was a firm but odd thing for him to have a hang up about but he felt maybe if he told her something he flat out would not enjoy it would be leading by example.  
"Ok." She didn't even look to be questioning it in the back of her mind. Which meant one of two things, pain wasn't something she liked it was something she'd endure or he didn't like it and that was all she needed to know.  
"You can aim all you like but it's inconsistant. The way it sounds when it hits." Maybe he had been so prepared to answer the question she didn't ask that he just trudged into a reply.  
"So flat surfaces are more your thing that's fine." She was too vauge and he still couldn't tell if that was ease or apprehension.  
"Fine or good? There are plenty of things with flat surfaces Cordelia, plenty of places for them to hit. There's hands and hairbrushe, paddles and crops, canes and-" Her hand that had been resting at his throat didn't grip didn't push but it recoiled away from his skin. "Cordelia?" Her eyes were wide and then narrow, her breath was coming in short but none of this was in want, none of this was pleasant. "Cordelia are you alright?" He put a hand to her back and she jumped at first, like his touch stung at her flesh. He sat up slowly not touching her again. "Breathe Cordelia." He had seen this face before, twice before, he knew this face to be associated with one thing, one person. She would never tell him what exactly happened but he figured this was as close as he'd get.  
"I don't . . . canes will have to be a like for much later." She was afraid, and while it could be viewed as endearing that she trusted him enough not to say no outright he wished she had.  
"I won't want them later." He had used the wrong word clearly because her whole body went rigid, her eyes clenched shut as if to brace for a blow. "Or now Cordelia. They don't exist for all I care." He tried to be clearer, tried to explain he didn't have one hidden under his mattress to beat her within an inch of her life. "Can you tell me what you're thinking? Please?" She had lost the panic but her head was still there, still somewhere hurting and he wanted her out of it. "Cordelia get off the bed." He watched her stand up and she was lost somewhere entirely, he wanted to hold her, safe and held, he wanted that for her but he didn't think that's what she needed in the moment. "I want you to step as far away from me as you feel comfortable." She needed space, this was confinement to her, she was feeling trapped. "If you have to leave tell me. I'll take you home or if you need me to leave I'll-" He was watching her back step, right to the middle of the floor.  
"I'm not going to kick you out of your own house Geralt."  
"Hmm. Would you feel better if I wasn't here? I will stand outside on the lawn if you need it Cordelia I just need to know what's going on. What will help?" His ego could wait. He watched her at least think about it for a moment.  
"Could you just stay."  
"Right here?" He was seated upright on his bed.  
"Yes." She wanted him close but not close enough to touch.  
"I can do that Cordelia." He remained even and still. "You don't have to but can you try and look at me?" Her eyes were glued to the floor.  
"I'm . . . upset." It wasn't a yes or a no, just a . . .warning perhaps, she wasn't just upset she was crying.  
"That's fine Cordelia." He didn't ask her again, he wanted her to understand there was no pressure, no rush. "Can you tell me what you're feeling right now? You don't have to tell me what you're thinking just-" Did she need him to fill the silence? Was any of this helping? He ran a hand through his hair. Had he been wrong to say he liked pain? Was he wrong to like it all? He was begining to feel raw and nearly sick.  
"Scared."  
"Hmm." When people were scared he normally left, being asked to stay was putting him in a curious position. "I won't touch you Cordelia. No one is going to touch you right now ok? I promise."  
"I feel angry." She wasn't listening anymore, wasn't hearing him. "Sad."  
"What does . . . Cordelia can I see your phone?" Geralt had an idea, it wasn't his best it, it wasn't his favorite by any stretch but it was all he had.  
"Why?" So she was listening just selectively.  
"Jarre has been there for you . . . he was there for you when this happened. . . I need someone to tell me how to help." When in doubt go to the expert.  
"He won't want to talk to you. I'll . . ." She really did lose that phone she loved so much mighty often, she was scowering a bit frenzied for it and let out a big breath once she had it in her hands. "I'll call him. He can come pick-"  
"Let me worry about that. Can I see your phone?" He hadn't moved, if he wasn't talking and breathing it could have been debated he had switched himself out with a wax replica.  
"Yes." She held it out to him.  
"Toss it over." He wasn't going to touch her. She lobbed the phone over into his lap. He tried not to grimace at the screen but he really was not looking forward to this.

"Cordelia? Are you alright? Do you know what fucking time it is? If you're drunk dialing me right-"  
"Jarre I need you to shut up." No need to break it to him softly.  
"Geralt?!" He could hear Jarre tumble out of bed. "Why do you have Cordelia's phone? What's wrong? I'll . . . Are you at the house? Fuck I'll be there in twenty minutes."  
"Jarre." He waited only moderately annoyed that he was blatantly ignored. "I need your help now not once you find your pants."  
"Help with what? Is Cordelia alright?"  
"What do you think?" He was choosing his words cautiously, he didn't want Cordelia tumbling further thinking she was not fine, that she had done something wrong.  
"What the fuck did you do?"  
"We were talking and what I said upset her." He did need to give a little, Jarre was likely convinced Geralt had Cordelia's body in a trunk and he needed to borrow a shovel. "What helps? I won't leave the room. So-"  
"No you don't leave you stay right there." Jarre finally was atleast acknowledging him. "What the fuck did you say?"  
"Later Jarre." He could scold Geralt into dust all he liked later but he needed help now. "Until you get here. What can I do other than just sit here?"  
"You don't have oreos in the basement by any chance do you?"  
"Not at the moment." Geralt snapped, Jarre asking questions he already knew answers to was not helping.  
"Let me talk to her?" Geralt thought on this, maybe there was something comforting about Jarre that he himself couldn't provide, someone who didn't have a prolicivity for pain.  
"And if you don't pick up next time and we're fresh out of oreos?" He did not have a spare bedroom for Jarre to live in, if talking to Jarre was necessary he'd find a way to fit that in but Geralt was trying to see if there was something he could do. "I'll hand over the phone but other than sit here useless is there something I can do?" Direct was always the best way.  
"I'll . . . you're in a bad room and under prepared for this Geralt. She'd be more comfortable at home."  
"Well she's not at home Jarre and I don't have a portal to shove her through."  
"Where are you . . like you personally"  
"On the bed?"  
"Are you naked?"  
"No."  
"That's good."  
"Jarre." He was going to hang up this was an exercise in futility.  
"I mean normally it was an hour long thing just . . . she's just not comfortable there."  
"I can see that Jarre." He knew she'd be more comfortable in her bed, just being by herself but she wasn't and that was the problem.  
"Get off the bed." At this Geralt looked up at Cordelia, still standing rigid in the middle of the floor.  
"Cordelia I'm going to stand up ok?"  
"Ok." She sounded less paniced by the second but more . . . drained. He stood and walked backwards away from her.  
"Now what?"  
"You're going to let me talk to Cordelia. She may get in bed and then assuming you have blankets in that padded cell you consider a bedroom-" That was a bit dramatic, it was a bedroom like any other, the fact that he didn't have cookies hidden in the rafters did not make it a hellscape.  
"I have blankets." That he actually had quite a few of, if she needed to feel warm, he could do that.  
"If she wants to lay down can you just . . ."  
"What Jarre?" He'd fold blankets into oragami sawns if he had to, why was it pulling teeth with these people?  
"Tuck her in? Like snug? Very snug, almost she can't move snug?" Safe, held. He could do that. Jarre had hesitated because he thought the action too soft to compute in Geralt's barbarian brain but it made perfect sense.  
"I can do that. I'm going to give her the phone. Do not rile her Jarre." Geralt warned before crouching down and sliding the phone across the floor at Cordelia's feet. It took her a second to even really notice but eventually she did pick it up.

"Hello?" Geralt had good hearing but he was across the room from her, he couldn't hear Jarre. "Yes. . . .No. . . .Yes. . . . I don't want to talk about it. . . . Yes." He could feel it building at the back of his throat just a frustrated, admittedly a bit possessive of a growl at the sound of her voice just breaking into bits but that would help no one so he just stood and waited for a chance to do anything. "I do." Jarre must've been saying a lot because Cordelia was just listening for minutes. "You can stay in bed. . . . I'm sorry I . . . He only did that because . . . I wouldn't take the bus, the bus doesn't run this late. . . . Early it doesn't run this early."  
"He can yell at us later for disrupting his beauty sleep. Either he'll pick you up or I'll drop you off, no one's getting on public transit." Geralt himself was starting to get on edge, he needed to do something, anything. He watched as she laid down on the bed just pulling all available covers over her face, it would have been adorable if she wasn't a little caccoon of sadness.  
"Cordelia I need you to pop your head out for a second." She was listening better which was a good sign. "Thank you." He didn't want to startle her with movements she couldn't see. He placed the phone up by the pillow and began shoving at corners of fabric till they were good and wedged under her. It was summer still so he had to pull his extra covers from the closet but every move was slow, wide and easily viewable. "If I wrap you any more you'll come out a raisin." This at least got a small smile out of her. "Do you want me to cover your face?" He didn't personally think it a great idea but this wasn't about him. He sat on the floor next to the bed.  
"No."  
"Alright. Is Jarre on his way?" He looked over to the phone. "You can bring the blankets with you. I run warm as it is."  
"He's coming."  
"Alright. Just . . . close your eyes if you can?" There were some test blinks but eventually her eyes lulled shut. Geralt took the phone. "The door is locked Jarre."  
"You couldn't have told me that earlier? Why the hell is your door locked?"  
"Because I don't live in the nineteen fifities suburbs Jarre. I lock my door. If Ves had his way we'd have a moat."  
"Fine I'll be there in-"  
"Just call when you're at the door and I'll bring her up ok?" He wasn't going to leave her, it wasn't that she was unsafe unattended, just . . . safe and held meant a presence.  
"Geralt?"  
"Yes Jarre?"  
"Next time I need to clean up your mess could you not make it on a workday?"  
"Goodbye Jarre."

"Geralt?" She wasn't asleep, just parodying the effect.  
"Yes Cordelia?"  
"I'm sorry."  
"I know." Telling her not to be was pointless, she'd heard it already.  
"I don't want you to feel bad."  
"Hmm." He wasn't going to lie, he felt like shit. It wasn't her fault she got that way but it wasn't his fault her mind went there, he didn't know, she hadn't told him.  
"I know you do."  
"Hmm."  
"And that's why I'm sorry."  
"I just want you to be ok Cordelia."  
"It has nothing to do with what you like."  
"Huh?"  
"It has everything to do with that exact . . . moment. It has nothing to do with anything you've done anything you told me."  
"Cordelia . . . until Jarre gets here can I. . ."  
"Did you want to lay up in bed? It is your bed."  
"Not lay down. I just . . . would it bother you to rest your head in my lap?"  
"No." He again moved in slow visable motions even though her eyes were closed. Lifting her head softly and sitting beneath her.  
"Hmm." This took some of the shitty feeling away, having her close, not so far away, he let his fingers drift through her hair.  
"When I leave you should raid the broiler."  
"Those are yours Cordelia."  
"But I won't be here to take care of you. They'll help I promise."  
"They're cookies not xanax."  
"If they made oreos filled with xanax I'd never be anxious."  
"If they made oreos filled with xanax you'd be a puddle of crumbs."  
"Probably. . . What do you do when you get down?"  
"Hmm. Take a long bath sometimes." He didn't get big crashing emotions often, though the night Cordelia had first peeped at him with those terrified eyes he had boiled himself like a lobster. He let out a small chuckle as her face scrunched disapprovingly. "Not a fan?"  
"If it works for you I'm glad but baths are just . . . people soup." That got a chuckle out of Geralt.  
"You haven't taken a quality bath if you're comparing it to soup. I'll show you."  
"What are there bubbles in your bath? Those-" She jolted a bit at the sound of her phone ringing. "That's my ride." She began wriggling to get free.  
"You can keep cozy Cordelia I'll carry you up. I don't need the blankets."  
"No. I . . ." Once one arm got free she made short work of the layers. "That's nice of you but you don't have to sleep on a stripped bed on my accord." She stood and while her posture was a tad hunched, still visably uncomfortable, she did look a measure better. "Thank You Geralt."  
"Take one with you?" He held out one of the six covers littered across his bed. For some reason this was important to him, if she said no he would be not devistated but a bit put out.  
"Thanks." She let it cloak over her shoulders as she put on her socks and shoes. "Goodnight Geralt." She was moving fast, she wanted to be home, and that left Geralt feeling cold, he wanted her to stay. He didn't voice that want though, keeping it quiet and to himself.  
"Goodnight Cordelia." He walked behind her as they avoided the squeaks in the stairs. He watched her get in Jarre's car, watched it disappear down the street. He thought about running himself a bath but that would relax him too much and he didn't want to be in a deep sleep when his work alarm went off in a few hours. Instead he stopped at his broiler before heading downstairs where he ate an entire pack of oreos in bed surrounded by covers he didn't need. The oreos were too sweet and stuck to his teeth, the covers crowded his bed that he had bought for it's size but he did feel better. It was giving his senses lingering reminders of niceness and that got him through till morning.

She hadn't been at the bar on monday, which while disapointing wasn't alarming outright. She had said she didn't want to watch and after her crash the night before she probably didn't want any off chance of a trigger. Geralt didn't feel any itch that needed scratching outside of hunting down Iola and confirming that Cordelia was doing alright. He spent the rest of his night brooding in his chair at the bar.

Tuesday when he didn't see Cordelia at the bar he didn't stop at his normal table but instead went straight back to his miserable chair. "Marx?"  
"Yes? I'm getting your drink don't worry, you're hard to miss, I saw you there."  
"Did Cordelia work early today?"  
"That she did." Marx had a sing song qualty to his voice, it could be amusing, it wasn't but it could be.  
"Hmm." He had patience, for Cordelia he had more patience than really should exsist but he wasn't doing this all over again. He wouldn't have her disappear for months again, rebuilding her confidence in slow solitary incriments.  
"Hello?" Marx had turned around to no one.

"Geralt? Geralt!" It was Jaskier on his heels.  
"What?" He stopped at the front door.  
"Are you alright? I heard what happened."  
"How the fuck did you hear what happened?"   
"Concider me the poet to your life history. I-"  
"I'd rather not."  
"Fine concider me your bland basic friend. I am always aware when things aren't right. How are you?"  
"She's hiding from me again. I don't know how many times I can ask her not to hide." He was growling till he wasn't, till he ran cold again. "Should I take it back? I shouldn't have asked in the first place."  
"What?"  
"We were good . . . happy. . . Then I got greedy, thought it was something we both wanted. I asked her to try again and things are . . ." He thought on how best to describe the state of things. "They're shit."  
"Geralt remember me and Ves bickering over what a relationship should be? Fun or hard work? They're both, they're supposed to be both. You need to put in hard work to have fun. I'm not a personal fan of heavy lifting hence my relationships are . . beautiful but brief." Jaskier admitted his own faults.  
"I'm trying to work at it as hard as I can Jaskier but I never know-"  
"Exactly. If you're willing to walk on eggshells for her she at least needs to show you where they are. You need to let her know you are not having fun Geralt. It needs to be the hard work of two not just one, that's what a relationship is. Am I sweating? I think I'm working up a sweat just thinking about it."

"Oh good it's the vampire." Nenne opened the door. Geralt peered in the house, plenty of women but no Cordelia.  
"How many people live here?"  
"Don't you work for the government?" Nenne squinted, she was no nonsense this one, it was almost refreshing.  
"I'm here to see Cordelia not fill out a census."  
"She's upstairs. Tell her if she keeps moping her face will get stuck like that." She moved to allow passage into the home.  
"So I'm guessing you heard what happened?" Geralt sighed as he entered.  
"Everyone knows what happened." Everyone knew, he had everyone's two cents pelting at him unsolicited. "Geralt?"  
"Yes?"  
"Jarre will never tell you to your face, but he was proud of you. It must not've been easy calling him up."  
"It wasn't." Geralt shrugged, it wasn't easy but it was simple. "I didn't know what else to do."  
"How could you with our resident scarecrow? I'm sure she clamped right up."  
"Let me guess. You disapprove too." No nonsense but no different from anyone else.  
"I'll tell you now what I told her then. I wish everyone could experience the thrill of sky diving but that doesn't mean I think someone with poor depth perception and bad dexterity should hop out of a plane."  
"What?" Geralt scratched his head, maybe Nene had some nonsense about her.  
"She's too sensitive yet not talkative enough, it's a bad mix. It was workable before, I've had my fair share of mousey partners, but she's too far gone. She can like the sensation she feels but that doesn't mean she's built to chase it." Nenne's words clawed at the back of his brain.  
"Too far gone." They angered him. He knew what it was like to be given up as a lost cause. Cordelia's natural anxiety was manageable, he knew it was, he could calm that, he even found some pride in doing so. It was her experience with Vilge he needed her to trust him to help her past, or maybe it was every experience she'd ever had in the bar before him. That was still what five or so years? Cordelia hadn't viewed him too far gone when it came to caring for his feelings and that had been . . . decades of damage. Hundreds if not thousands of experiences with people as a whole not just some niche community. He had told her he wouldn't say he loved her and still he wasn't too far gone. She was accepting of the level of simple care that made sense to him, they worked if they kept working at it. "Not alone." Geralt was walking with purpose up the stairs.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Your sky diver, he shouldn't hop out of the plane alone. They make tandem chutes for a reason."

He knocked at her door. "Yes?" Cordelia didn't sound mopey, she sounded distracted.  
"Cordelia it's me."  
"Geralt?" She went from distracted to confused as the door whipped open. "What are you doing here?" Under that confusion there almost seemed to be hapiness.  
"You weren't at the bar." Now he was confused, he had expected her to be . . . worse, letting her insecurities eat her alive but that didn't seem to be the case. He was glad she wasn't but if she was fine, why wasn't she fine with him?  
"Oh. Yeah . . . I've been working on something."  
"Your manifesto?" Glancing around her room he saw crumpled up balls of paper littered everywhere. Cordelia chuckled but shook her head no.  
"Come in."  
"I was worried Cordelia." She could have told him that she was just regular busy it would have saved him some headache and two lectures.  
"I'm sorry." There was anxiety there but it was of the more every day, infused with Cordelia's dna variety, nothing that spoke to scars or scares.  
"What were you . . ." He stopped as a want hit him. He walked into her space and let his hand rest at the back of her neck, she didn't flinch, her eyes didn't sadden . . . she was at the very least fine. He leaned in and kissed her and he could feel that nice fondness just as he remembered it. "What were you working on?"  
"Well two things actually. First thing . . . close your eyes."  
"Do I have to?" He wasn't one for denying her but she had put him through the ringer over the weekend. Time and trust were something they still had but not in excess at the moment.  
"No." She shrugged, she didn't seem bruised by his inability to play along just accepting it as understandable and moving on. It gave Geralt a reminder that even at her most dificult she never intended to be malcious, in a last second decision he did close his eyes. "Here . . . oh you did . . . you can open them Geralt." He did so and extended in one of Cordelia's hand was a basket.  
"What is that?" He took it from her inspecting the contents.  
"A gift."  
"A gift or an apology?" He didn't want her to buy him things when they had a bad day, he was cautious about another bad habit.  
"A gift . . . maybe a thank you. For being patient, for helping me. For being an all around good boyfriend Geralt."  
"Hmm." The word boyfriend always seemed childish to him, but what else was she supposed to call him? A partner? A lover? Neither title hit his ear any better. He'd think on that later. "It's . . . bath stuff?"  
"It's bath stuff!" She was grinning ear to ear. "You aparently take your baths very seriously so . . .well ta da!" He knew he wasn't giving much of a reaction just filtering through the contents of the basket but he was enamored, he was confused, he was not a man who received gifts.  
"Is this one of those things you use to dye easter eggs?" The oils and salts and such were all things he had seen before, these chalky little orbs nestled in the basket he didn't recognize.  
"They're bath bombs Geralt."  
"Bombs?" No wonder she didn't like baths, what with there being projectiles involved.  
"They . . . fiz in the water change it's color . . . I guess it is kinda like the Easter egg thing. They smell better though . . . that one's lavender I think there's one that smells like pine, one's minty. I think one smells like birthday cake."  
"Why would anyone want to smell like birthday cake?" His nose wrinkled at the thought and he just shook his head, he was getting off topic."Thank you Cordelia." It was a nice gift. He had told her something he enjoyed and she was quick to pounce on it. She was better at this part . . . the relationship bit, not a pilar of confidence but she was more in her element.  
"Now while I am not opposed to just giving gifts out of the blue . . . this isn't one of those times."  
"How so?" Was she expecting something in return? Or was this a day that was important in some way? Nothing immediately sprung to mind so he just waited for more information.  
"Here." She picked up three envelopes and handed them to him. "You have to read them first before you use any of your new fun bath stuff. Deal?"  
"Are you concerned what you wrote will upset me?" He had stated he took baths when he was feeling down, was she cushioning some sort of blow? It was still a sweet gesture but he'd like to know if it was sweet to offset the sour.  
"I don't know how you'll feel about them so that's why I wrote them instead of telling you. I spent a lot of time googling my issues and short of a full psychiatric stay this seemed like my best viable option. I know . . . not telling you things has lead to . . . bad things happening and just continuing to let them happen isn't fair. If I can do something to stop it I need to. I got in a bad place because I can't talk about what gets me in a bad place. How silly is that?"  
"Not silly." Nothing about this was funny. "It is frustrating though." He figured Nenne had given Cordelia a repeat of that sky diving pep talk. "I'm glad you tried to figure a way around it instead of just giving up. . . but why three?"  
"I thought of the things that trip me up most when we talk but that you have every right to know. That one-" She pointed to the first envelope. "I thought about what I know for a fact I like and don't like and wrote them down."  
"Ok." She didn't handle rejection well, maybe it was easier to speak her preferences without staring into his soul for any sign of disapproval.  
"That one-" The second envelope. "Is what I normally do when I find myself upset or down."  
"Hmm." He really would have preferred her to have had this epiphany two days ago but perhaps it took hitting a rock bottom of sorts for her to realize her approach needed to change. "And the third?"  
"That's . . . what happened."  
"With Vilge? I meant it Cordelia you don't have to explain to me what happened. If it's on your list of things you don't want I won't do it. Simple."  
"It's not to help me. It's to help you. I had you doubting yourself to the point you called Jarre. That you came to my house cause I gave my liver the day off. Maybe if you know what happened you'll know that I do trust and care about you. I don't think you're similar in any way. It's just . . . sometimes memories are tricky. They mess with how things are, even if how they are is so much better than the way they were."  
"Do you have a pen?" Geralt rested his letters and care package down on the ground.  
"I do." She went to a cabinet and pulled out a pen and some paper. "Geralt I'm doing this because I have trouble talking it's not a homework assignment I'm expecting of you."  
"It's a good idea." He pulled the cap off with his teeth and started writing. "But an erotic pen pall isn't what I'm looking for." He spoke without looking up but he could near smell her spike in anxiety, her fear she wasn't trying hard enough. "We need to talk. In person. Like sane adults. Thats what we need to do before moving forward." He paused looking up to watch her nod. "So as much as watching you think over opinions and how I will take them is quite the face on you, I'll give you this so you can think about it before we talk. Would that help? I can't take you running and hiding again."  
"I think so." She nodded again.  
"Can I ask you one more thing Cordelia? About something I like?"  
"Sure."   
"Do you remember that sun dress you wore when we went grocery shopping?"  
"The yellow one yeah." Her smile turned eager, her ears nearly leaning into the long pause.  
"Does that hold any sentimental value to you?"  
"The dress? I bought it for like twelve dollars at target so . . . no. You liked it, is that what you wanted me to wear?"  
"It is, but the way I want to take it off of you . . . you wouldn't be able to wear it again." He did like that face, watching as she heard his want, played it over in her head, formed an opinion and then thought on how best to word her reply.  
"I want to wear it for you." She smiled in a fond way, in a wanting way. She was doing her best to turn over a new leaf, trying to be better, just for him.

When Geralt got home he ran the water in the tub. Read the first two letters or lists, he hadn't been too far off with his guess at a manifesto. He tossed in one of those bath bombs from Cordelia's basket, glanced disapproving at the Kaleidescape colors it had turned his perfectly good bath water and shrugged before getting in. He let himself sink there for a moment, while the coloring was too much it did smell nice, even felt nice. He took the last envelope in his hands, clenching at it a bit angrily he didn't notice right away he had let the water from his fingers bleed through the paper. "Probably didn't smudge it too bad." And then he let go of it, let it float across the tye dyed pool and grow illegible. "I'd end up killing him." Geralt sunk deeper in the water. "She really would be an erotic pen pal." He snorted to himself, closing his eyes as he just soaked his concerns away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will lighten back up again promise, I got heavy these last two chapters but it's not my fault my characters have a sever case of the bottled up feels it wouldn't be fan fiction if they didn't.


	12. Home alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little less fun banter than most others to make room for more questionable musing. The banter will be back in a chapter or so. A little sorry, mostly not though.

The next day wasn't terribly eventful but for as unexcitible as Geralt was he also was observant, saw clues to the bigger picture in small actions. That's why Cordelia accidently sitting in his lap was something he didn't just brush off. She had jolted off of him, she had two speeds panicked frenzy or patient ease there was nowhere in-between. "Sorry I-"  
"Didn't know I was sitting here?" As if he hadn't been sitting there for an hour, as if that wasn't where he always sat every single time when at the table. "You should just ask." He sighed almost on instinct, letting an arm wrap around her waist and pulling her back towards him.  
"I'm sorry."  
"You wouldn't be sorry so often if you just asked for what you wanted." It wasn't that he didn't want her right there, as close as she could be, his chin nestled just perfectly in the crook of her neck. Honestly this was mostly a positive development, she had been skeddish to show any closeness in the bar due to the looks it got. He didn't want those stares to keep her from him, he didn't want to have to hide. Their relationship was just as valid as any other. It was just they had enough existing bad habits between the two of them there was no room for new ones to form. He didn't want her to think forgiveness was easier gained than permission. She didn't have to let her wants slip out on accident and apologize for them when they did. He wanted her to ask. What was getting lost in him telling her that was all that he required.  
"It doesn't . . . bother you at all?"  
"You asking?" Any sentence of hers that ended in a question always interested him, itch related or not. Her questions always nestled warmly in his ears. She was asking him and no matter his answer she always cared, listened, really heard him. He could listen to her read the sats as long as she was asking him.  
"Well that but-"  
"I like when you ask me things." Lead by example, if he wanted her likes and dislikes, making the topic a familiar one was a good place to start . . . again.  
"When you ask someone for something you want . . . and someone says no. You don't feel bad?"  
"He's the wrong person to ask." Jaskier had his two cents ready.  
"Hmm." Jaskier annoyed Geralt often but stealing one of Cordelia's questions from him pushed a hair beyond annoyance. "Why's that?" Geralt had only the slightest snap to his tone.  
"Because you don't want anything. Don't need anything. You're as self reliant as they come."  
"Hmm." Jaskier was exaggerating again, Geralt had wants and needs, he vocalized them as quickly as they came. He could concede maybe a bit of merit to Jaskier's words though. Geralts wants were for things he could do. Cordelia's wants asked of him perhaps that made them seem more selfish in her eyes.  
"Cordelia take it from me the neediest person you know."  
"Jaskier you're not the neediest person I-"  
"If someone has taken my title I'd like their name and address. . . I'll wait." He didn't view this as a negative trait. "There is no shame in being happy, in demanding what makes you happy. If you're happy you make the others around you happy. Do you think I'd be the purveyor of joy that I am if I didn't fulfill my own wants and needs."  
"purveyor of . . ." Geralt rolled his eyes at Jaskier and his inability to just speak plainly. "Somewhere in between the two Cordelia . . . between wanting nothing and being a . . . purveyor of joy. That's where you want to be." He didn't want her to go from one extreme to the other, from feeling content with whatever was, to demanding that space and time twist around her for every frivolous want, he ideally saw her somewhere in the middle. "I just prefer you'd feel comfortable to ask . . . have I ever been dismissive of you when you've asked me something?" He wasn't like everyone else, she could doubt the masses but there was no reason in the world she should doubt him on this front, he had worked hard for her trust.  
"No."  
"You've said it yourself I'm reliable." He smiled remembering her fond little comparison to clock work. "If I haven't before I won't. As long as there's a reason for your want I'll always answer it." There was always thoughtful reasons to her wants and that's half of what he liked about them. They were purposeful, they made sense, it was just getting them that was the battle.

"Hello?" She could even answer the phone anxious, he started to wonder if her emails were written entirely in tense italics.  
"What's wrong?"  
"I don't know. You're calling me awful early in the day. Is something wrong?"  
"I'm on lunch and I-"  
"Aww"  
"Aww?" That wasn't a response he got . . . Ever.  
"You could be eating in silence but instead you're calling me. I'm touched." She struggled with her words often but she teased well, still remaining nice.  
"Hmm." He decided maybe he would do this more often, call her mid day, a bit of niceness could make his days substantially less monotonous. "Would that be ok?" He kept his thoughts to himself so often he sometimes didn't notice what words remanied in his head.  
"I'm sure it would but What?" She knew when to tease and when to ease. When out of her head she was seemlessly sweet.  
"Calling . . . on my break." Maybe it was because he more often than not didn't have much to say but this want came with the smallest bit of hesitancy.  
"More than ok." He could hear her smile and just the stress of his day seemed . . . not gone but distant, like she would ward it off of him for just the few minutes they had.  
"When you're done work . . . I'd like to talk."  
"That senseable adult chat?" He had warned her and he was glad that kept etensential dread from coming in at the notion of talking.  
"That one. Would you prefer to talk at your house?" He wanted to know where she'd feel most comfortable because he wasn't going to let her run and hide this time.  
"Yes." That had come remarkably easy, he had been expecting one of her all the possibilities pauses. "Geralt?"  
"Yes?"  
"I just . . . sorry isn't the word I mean but I can't think of another one . . . I'm sorry that you have to be so careful with me."  
"I will always be careful with you . . . but it's getting easier. We're getting better." Mending took time, took breaking and setting of mishealed wounds. Yes it wad tedious and at points repetitive but he was so much more . . . happy than he'd been in so long that even when repeating himself grew frustrating it was offset by that, by just having her. "Trusting me to be careful is hard I-"  
"It's not you, it's-" She was quick to try and correct.  
"It _is_ me." He stated a bit forcefuly, he didn't want her to take this from him. "Eventually it will be others but I . . . enjoy it being me you trust, I want some trust to stay mine. It . . ." It meant so much to him, made him feel more . . . not normal but . . . Comfortable, like he had a place and a purpose that didn't just accommodate him but fit him perfectly, was his. That off and out of touch with the world sensation that had long since been both accepted yet alienating was diminishing, melting like wax under Cordelia's warmth, her trust and all around fondness for him.  
"Just yours." She had picked out his favorite part and said it again just so he could have it a second time. "I promise I have trust that's just yours." Those words went right on that same shelf as safe and held, another guiding mantra to keep them moving with purpose.

"How many people live here?" He had picked her up from work and brought them to her house. Every time this door opened there seemed to be more and more women bussling about.  
"Like . . . get their mail delivered here or just visited and never left?"  
"Either."  
"Seven live here by the books . . . I think maybe eleven people live here depending on the day."  
"That's too many people for one house." Fighting his brothers for the upstairs bathroom while his was being fixed almost had him losing an eye, he couldn't imagine adding eight or nine others to the mix, no wonder Cordelia spent most of her time at the bar it must seem tranquil by comparrison.  
"Hotel Nenne is what she calls it when she's annoyed with us."  
"Hmm." He wondered momentarily if she lived here by choice or because there were no other viable options, she had never spoken of any family. It was a thought he tucked back for much later, family was a touchy subject for anyone and it would need it's own day and adult conversation down the line, trust and familiarity at a level they just weren't at yet.

"So . . ." She had been beyond good most of the day, her anxiety had almost been an undertone but this was Cordelia he was speaking to, she wouldn't be her if she didn't start nervous. She sat on her bed and just stared up at him for a moment. "What did you think . . . or what did you want . . . what are we talking about exactly?"  
"I did not read the last one . . . it fell in the tub." He didn't want her to think he knew information he didn't.  
"Oh." She nodded. "Did you use my gift?"  
"I did, my baths don't need bells and whistles but it was . . . nice." He wasn't going to go out and buy bath bombs in bulk but they were nice little things, the thought behind them did more than the fizz itself. "It didn't fall in the tub I dropped it . . . on purpose." He felt his statement had been too close to lying and that wasn't a good starting point. He sat down next to her waiting to see her reaction, scratching the back of his head a bit concerned she'd take it as disrespectful.  
"Ok." For a moment she just seemed to accept that. "Why?" Progress, she wasn't _just_ accepting, the word was still full of ease, not acusitory or upset, but she wanted to know more so she asked.  
"Part of me worries I will want to hurt Vilge." This took trust on Geralt's part, trust that she knew he wasn't a hurtful person but that this situation was different than most. Vilge had hurt her, physicaly, mentaly, deeply and Geralt didn't know exactly how he'd react upon taking on the facts of that just sprawled out in front of him. "If you want to tell me I need you to . . . be there. I need to see you're ok or I might do something I'd regret."  
"I'm ok Geralt." Cordelia was speaking softly, not as if she was worried he'd fly of the handle but just to be reassuring in her own right.  
"You're not as ok . . . As you should be, as you would be if it wasn't for-" His jaw grew tense, he grew angry.  
"You didn't know me then Geralt. You don't need to make up for not protecting me."  
"It's something that will always bother me." Her words were correct, he had no way of protecting her then but it didn't make his gut churn any less when Vilge took her from him, and that's exactly how he viewed it. When she started blinking away tears, all her focus was on Vilge and the hurt he caused her, not on Geralt who sharing was not something he did with trivial things let alone the fond focus he coveted so much, he resented Vilge for robbing him of that, resented the hurt that took a place that could hold his care. "It's . . . I _will_ make up for it. I'll prove to you that I'm nothing like him."  
"I don't think you are Geralt. Please believe that, I never think you're . . . I know you're better. For me you're better."  
"I don't like sharing." It wasn't so much a change of subject as much as a segway to what they were actually supposed to be talking about.  
"Then why was it a maybe on your list?"  
"I've told you before it's not all about what one person wants. If you enjoy multiple partners at one time it's something I will indulge you in occasionally." It had long ago stopped surprising him how many people had that particular fantasy, it wasn't his cup of tea but he did not want to deny a want outright simply because he was greedy for her. "But it would have to be something very much planned out. Not right away. Sharing your body isn't something shameful, sharing your focus is where I grow less than . . . It would take extra consideration for me to be comfortable with it." He was simply asking her to be . . . Mindful of that want, know that it was something that did not come easy to him.  
"More people would just distract me. I wouldn't be able to give anyone let alone you my focus and I want more than anything to give you that. You've earned it."  
"Hmm not yet but I will." His eyes were dark and demanding and wanting, there was so little patience left in them. "The letter I didn't read was there anything in there not on your list of what you don't want?"  
"Be . . . Careful with if."  
"I don't understand." The quiet way she said that sentence made it clear this was important, something he very much did need to understand, backwards and forwards.  
"If you were really trying . . . If you really wanted me to please me . . .If you just. . If questions . . . Can make me panic. If makes me think I could be doing better but I'm not, I'm failing, I'm letting you down. It's not intended that way most of the time, it's supposed to be a tease or encouraging more but . . . but that's how I hear it." Her fists were clenched at her side.  
"Hmm." It made perfect sense, Cordelia's more heavy anxiety stemmed from fear of disappointing, he could see how that word could feed into that concern. It made sense but wasn't a conclusion Geralt may have come to on his own. He doubted he would have said those things but he really was proud she was putting thought into what did and did not make her comfortable, she was digging deep to keep them safe. "I will be careful." She had also been kind to say careful and not admonish the two letter word outright. They both had distinct emotionaly charged triggers that they had explained and trusted the other with. Not burying them six feet under just asking the other to be thoughtful. "Thank you Cordelia." He knew it was something still in the works, something he would maybe not always but for the foreseeable future have to nurture out of her, wanting came in tandem with that dreaded disappointing in Cordelia's mind.

"How much did you plan out ahead of time with your partners before?" Some people liked knowing exactly what they were walking into, felt safer and fell into focus faster with the security of knowing what was around the corner. For others it was the complete opposite, half of the mindset was in not knowing, in giving up the control of the moment while not entirely blind but left in a trusting dark.  
"Depended on the person." Geralt wasn't surprised, this was one similarly they shared. They were both inclined to take what was offered and make it work for them. Geralt was slightly more deserning having set preferences and hence a set partner pool but still he was not terribly picky, he had preferences but only one need. As long as he could feel in control all else was just the road they took to get there.  
"Do you think you'd be more comfortable if we set up what's expected ahead of time?" There it was, all the possibilities, flooding her brain. "Yes or No Cordelia?"  
"No." That answer _did_ surprise him.

"Then we won't." He was actually pleased with her response, wanting her faces of surprise and ease when moments hit her but he staid neutral with his acknowledgement, reassuring her he wouldn't have asked if there had only been one acceptable answer. "Can you tell me why?" He liked the why of it all when it came to Cordelia, he wanted to be able to deconstruct and rebuild her because he knew her better than most.  
"One if I knew what was expected and if something changed I'd-"  
"Think you'd done something wrong?" She had really thought about it, dissected her anxiety and it was an ugly monster, just reaching at her from every angle. If left unchecked there was no rest or reprieve from it but they could work around it, slay the beast every time it reered it's head so long as they knew what direction it was coming from.  
"Yes."  
"Cordelia?"  
"Mhm?"  
"I've told you that I enjoy making people listen. I would want to . . . Sometimes I like to keep focus with pain."  
"I don't like . . . Blood but there are times I like pain, when done . . . Not angry just-" She was more about restraints and more about the mental than the physical that was becoming clear but he was glad she was trusting he could make his wants blend into hers.  
"I won't make you bleed Cordelia." He had made people bleed before, more than once, there were partners who control quite literally took a pound of flesh, that's where their pleasure and focus was found, that was fine, just not for Cordelia. "I'll have to watch my teeth though." He added a bit casually, sometimes he got swept up in sinking in his teeth, sometimes he drew blood when maybe holding was all he was after.  
"No you don't." There was a small bit of lust nestled in her smile. "I like your teeth Geralt, your bites are . . ." She squirmed a little around the thoughts in her head.  
"How are they Cordelia? How do they make you feel?" It had been one of the first things she had told him, something that always without fail, tripped her up, words, but he could see it was a limit that when pushed brought results, brought focus.  
"Hot." She bluntly explained the physical sensation it brought which made him smirk but Geralt pressed further.  
"Is that all?" He moved her into his lap. He waited a moment before biting down softly at the base of her neck. "Do you know how I feel?" He bit again a little harder. "When I leave a mark on you?"  
"How?" He could hear the lust rise a bit more.  
"Like I have you Cordelia." He bit deeper, he didn't draw blood but he let the pressure stay there, heard a little whine of pain crest into a small groan of pleasure and that thrilled him. He really did like a good love bite, sometimes he liked a bit more. "Can I continue"  
"Biting? Er . . . What were we talking about?" That was a wonderful answer, just had Geralt grinning, she was focusing with less fight, just letting herself have thoughtless moments because Geralt was there, he had her.  
"I was saying-" He paused to nip at her ear, he didn't have to be allowed twice to let his teeth wander. "While I sometimes will want pain . . . Sometimes will want to punish you if I'm losing your focus it will never be . . . At your person."  
"Huh?"  
"My actions and words won't ever come from a place where I think . . .less of you, less of us. If you take punishment that way I have to know. I won't do it if you'll . . . If it hurts you. You've been doing so well I don't want you to lose your confidence."  
"It . . . Will happen . . . Probably, my head is tricky."  
"Hmm." If that wasn't an understatement.  
"But I also think . . . I also want it." It shouldn't have made sense but it did, it was in line with talking, but almost paradoxically. Talking was something she didn't feel comfortable with but when pushed it made her focus deeper. Punishment was something she did feel comfortable with but if pushed could take her absolutely out of it.  
"What is your word Cordelia?"  
"Cherry."  
"Hmm." That wasn't what he was expecting. "Why that?"  
"I hate cherries." She shrugged, not everything had some deep double meaning.

"Noted." Though not deep by any stretch he still held onto that tidbit, the girl loved oreos and hated cherries, she knew what she liked when it came to food at least, she had firm opinions on some things. "You have to promise-"  
"It won't be like Vilge." She nodded half scolded.  
"He is not my concern. With me Cordelia, you have to be confident right here and right now that if I am hurting you . . . In any way, you'll use it. If you can't that's fine . . . We'll wait till you are but you have to be certain you are not scared to say it to me. You don't think I'll be mad if you do."  
"Will you be disappointed?" So there was some doubt still lingering.  
"No. I will be understanding, I promise." His tone was asking nearly pleading for faith. He would hear her, understand her, he would always be there to calm her. "There will be something sometime down the line that you do or I feel that will make me want to stop and I will say cat and we will stop and I have no concern whatsoever that you will feel any ill will towards me." She had his faith but he knew it was apples and oranges, close but not the same.  
"You don't like cats?"  
"Cordelia." He turned her in his lap so they were face to face, his face was stern but had a hint of pain. "I will never try to hurt you, but I am not perfect, you're not perfect, it takes time to get things right. If you just . . . Let me hurt you . . . I'd . . . " His breaths were big and almost battle ready. "Please don't do that to me. I don't want to be someone who hurts. Don't make me that person, not to you." He kept a second please in the back of his throat, it was on it's way out when she finally spoke up.  
"I promise. I won't change you into something you're not. I won't let you hurt me." She kissed him softly. He let out one last exhausted breath, he believed her.  
"It also . . . Eventually-" He paused to clarify. "Doesn't have to mean stop you've messed up it's over. A safe word means just that, you don't feel safe in that moment, whatever we're doing needs to stop, something is wrong. At first that will mean a full stop, you take a lot of time to feel comfortable and I understand that. There may come a time when it just means a pause or a change, it means you need to feel safe, simple."  
"You've said stop and gone back into a scene?" She sounded skeptical but she had the understanding that safe words were derogatory, chastising, that wasn't what they should be, they, by definition were meant to help not hurt.  
"I am very rarely in a position to be physically hurt." He liked simple things there wasn't a whole dog and pony show to what he did, normally it was his body in control of anothers, nothing he couldn't physically be aware and in full control of. "When I stop it's because I feel uncomfortable." When he found himself feeling out of control or under attatck, when his mind went to dark unseemly places. "Sometimes I just need a breath."  
"Geralt are you really a parole officer or do you go around from bars to sex shops giving seminars on good etiquette?"  
"Cordelia do I have to remind you I sat in that bar for months till you used your own bad reputation to convince people I wasn't a brutal predator?" He sighed briefly and pressed past to something less heavy. "Will you come over early on Saturday?"  
"How early?" She was clearly inferring he meant to have sex with her from dawn to dusk and while that wasn't the worst idea he'd ever heard that's not exactly what he had in mind.  
"Cordelia ask me the last time I had the house to myself."  
"Geralt when was the last time you had your house to yourself?"  
"When the real-estate agent handed me the keys after I bought it. I want to make the best use of that day."  
"Don't you want some of it to yourself?"  
"Hmm." He thought about it for a moment but he couldn't think of anything he could do alone that he couldn't do with her there, that wouldn't be better with her there. "I can watch TV in the den." He was planning his morning.  
"We watched TV in the den just the other day."  
"Without Lambert's riveting commentary."  
"I like Lambert's commentary." While that was good news it could only bring bad things.  
"Do not tell him that he'll really start to ham it up."  
"That's him hamless?" She probably didn't realize that her saying that meant much of anything but to Geralt the fact that at least one of his brothers wasn't a vilin in Cordelia's eyes was an ease in itself, lifted some weight off of him.  
"I'll have Jarre drop me off early. We'll have a good day Geralt." She was . . . Confident which was nice, which was overdue. He finally had it fully, her trust and he would make the best of it.  
"Hmm." A question hit him. "Cordelia do you not know how to drive?" She was always getting rides too and from places.  
"I tried learning . . . twice but-"  
"Were not immediately god's gift to driving so you got stressed and gave up? I'll teach you." He liked teaching her, like how her eyes lit up as if the world new with him, new and safe.  
"One life skill at a time Geralt I can only sponge up so much knowledge."  
"Priorities." He shrugged in acknowledgement.  
"Hey if you'd prefer spending Saturday teaching me how to parallel park that's fine but-"  
"Hmm." He had been waiting, working patiently for this day, even her tease to take it away got a half genuine growl.  
"Priorities."

He heard her knocking and he felt a surge, a level of determination and excitement was prickling at his skin. It was now or never, he could talk and explain all he liked, now it was time for what he was better at, time to act. "Hello." Her smile was fond but nervous, this was part of the reason he had asked her to come over early, he had to calm her before he could have her. Both prospects just made his determination double over.  
"Hello Cordelia." She had worn it, just for him, that pretty little sun dress, he noticed something from the get go but he waited till they were two or three episodes into some show that held none of his attention before bringing it up.

"Where did everyone go?" The house was quiet, very still and felt a bit empty.  
"Not here." He loved his family dearly but he didn't want her thoughts on them, only on him. "Good thing too. Wouldn't want them to see you like this."  
"Like this?"  
"How you look now. How you'll look when I'm done with you." His words got laced with hunger. His hand slid over her shoulder down the front of her dress to find nothing underneath. "Are you that eager Cordelia? That you didn't even wear a bra?" His finger rolled around her nipple almost lazily.  
"I. . ." Words stalled as they often did. "I . . ."  
"What about down here?" He hiked her dress up with little fan fare. She was quick to blush at being exposed, but she had done this on purpose, she did everything on purpose. "Hmm." It was more of an observational hum than anything that told of want. Again at almost a lazily half concentrated speed he rubbed around her edges before letting a finger slide inside. "Tell me Cordelia when we went grocery shopping were you wearing nothing underneath?" He knew she had, he had carried her over his shoulder had placed her in a shopping cart, he had seen her from every angle.  
"No." Her voice was small and a bit embarrassed not fully lost in the tease of his words or his hand.  
"So not for them you chose to dress like a slut just for me?"  
"I'm not . . . I mean I didn't because-" He saw that look on her face as she was trying to find the right words, trying to force herself into that mindset.  
"You're not what?" His tone was calm. Would calm really work or when it came to play did push always have to come to shove? No he could be gentle, he could be calm, Cordelia allowed him those things, deserved them.  
"A slut." He could hear the whine of want twist within the embarrassment. His free hand rode long up her middle till his palm rested at her throat. He wasn't going to use pain, or guilt, he was testing the waters to see if it was darker words she needed to get lost in a moment. He would start with a tame tease, he didn't think her a slut but he wanted her in a place that was closer to a fantasy than real life. He wanted her to drop somewhere where he could do what he wanted, she could enjoy and trust what he did to her and feel there was no pressure just pleasure.  
"Hmm." He bit at the back of her neck softly, feeling her arch away then fall back into it. "What if I want you to be?" He pressed a bit firmer at her throat. "Want you to be dirty and shameless? If I want you to be a slut just for me? Mine?" His hand pushed a bit harder at that word.  
"If you . . ."  
_'Shit.'_ Minutes, seconds into it he had asked her an if question. "You don't have to. I'll have you proper if that's how you want to be." He didn't panic or flinch just let his lips map over where he had bitten. She had a soft pretty little moan in response which made him feel he hadn't messed up terribly. "You sound like a beautiful little slut." He kept with that word but added some softness to the term, some encouragement. She was safe, he had her, wanted her.  
"I want . . . I can be . . ." She was tensing up though.  
"Tell me Cordelia-" He pressed harder till her back was firm at his chest, he had her. "How you'll be for me. If you want someone to be sweet to you I'll play that game too." She had options, if these words were not something that played to her likes he would switch, words were nothing to him but were they key to both locking and unlocking Cordelia. He just wanted control, simple, he was grasping for her focus and wanted her to know she had no need to hold herself back with him, she could focus near anyway she liked and he would take all of it.  
"Not sweet." Her hips were arching into his slow thrusting fingers, there were two now, working at her, spreading and still teasing at her. "Please." She wasn't lost, wasn't focused but she wanted to be, was asking to be.  
"Please?" He wanted to hear her ask for him, want him. Please was always a good start, always a sign that she felt safe to want.  
"Please I want more I need-" She was turning here, letting more words spill out unchecked.  
"I know you do. I know you're a greedy little-"  
"Slut." She was tense and red, embarrassed and unsure.  
"Just mine. Just for me. I'm proud of you Cordelia. I knew you could be good. Knew you could be honest." He pressed even harder at her throat, feeling her breath hitch tightly, kissing at her shoulders, letting his tongue slide out occasionaly and graze over the curve. "Did you want me to take you downstairs? Or did you need to see how your show ends?" He grinned watching her blink softly at her surroundings, realizing they were still very much in the living room, the TV was very much still on, they hadn't even started yet.  
He let her blush harder for a moment. "I can stop." He did just that, he removed his mouth from her skin, his fingers from inside her, his hand at her throat remained.  
"No. . ." Her mouth sounded dry and heady. "I Don't want you to stop . . . I want . . ."  
"I need my hand back Cordelia." He warned her as his last firm point of intamite contact slowly fell from her.  
"I want it back . . .please." She was growing nervous and that's not what he wanted but he really did need his hand back. There was an audible pop as he pulled from each end, the zipper to her dress was no match for his hunger. Words didn't do much for him but the sound of fabric giving way was something pleasing, he may have groaned but it was that sound washing out all else.  
"Geralt?!" It was half ways tugged from her by this point but still he stopped.  
"It's a little late for that Cordelia. You'll look silly with a half torn dress. You'll look much better bare, look more ready and open for me." She gave a sigh that acknowledged the dress was a lost cause. "You can take it off or you can ask me to tear it off you but it is coming off." He was glad he had the foresight to close all the blinds in his house, the neighbors would surely have something to say if catching a half glance of this while out walking the dog.  
"You can . . ." The nerves were still there. "You can tear it."  
"I know I _can_. I want you to ask me to. I don't mind doing the hard work so long as you ask nicely."  
"Please Geralt . . ." She could have just as easily shrugged her way out of the dress and not had to say a word but she was trying to give him what he wanted. She did everything nicely, every motion and breath was just nice.  
"We have all day Cordelia and I more patient than most. I won't touch you again till you're out of that dress"  
"Tear it . . . Er my dress will you please tear it off me?" She asked and he did not let it go unheard. With another firm tug, another pleasing sound of fabric giving way and there was just yellow scraps on the floor.  
"Stand up Cordelia." He could feel blood just pool directly downwards, he was trying to keep his face neutral and calm but watching her take that direction without hesitation was making the itch unbearable. He did frown briefly as he watched her hands try to cover herself. "Do you think you should be doing that? Hiding yourself from me?"  
"No." Her squirms were even fond, towards and away from him like an awkward little dance.  
"Do you want to hide from me Cordelia? Or will you let me see you like I want?" She didn't answer him but let her hands fall. "Cordelia are you wet?" He was full of questions he already had answers to.  
"Yes . . .er I am . . .I'm-" He didn't need all her words all at once, he could give her some reprieve.  
"Hmm." He didn't want to bring her downstairs till he was sure she was in the right frame of mind. "Look at me Cordelia." She did and her eyes were wide and wanting but still too in her head to be fully focused. "I want you wetter Cordelia, I want you ready for me. Play with yourself for me."  
"Geralt I-"  
"There wasn't a question there Cordelia."  
"I know but-"  
"Open your mouth for me Cordelia. If you can't be quiet I'll make you quiet." He did have to assert dominance but he didn't want to use pain as he had in the past, he could be calm and stern. He knew she was listening, she was always listening but he needed to be heard over her head. He watched her mouth open softly, not agape but not too sheepish as to be scolded for not following direction. He quartered her torn dress, bunched a piece into a ball. Standing from the couch he placed his hand back at her throat, holding back a smile as he felt her ease under that hold. He let her mouth stay open for a moment. "What a pretty look on you Cordelia." He wasn't forceful, he didn't jam it into her face cruelt but he did take the bunched scrap and packed it past her lips, filling the open space. "Good girl." He gave her a somewhat doting kiss on the forehead. He could see her eyes think and think and then stop. They grew glossy and pliant. She knew he had control, nothing about the way either of them were could have her beliving otherwise, he was in control and she was safe, more than that she was safe and cared for. "Now that you won't talk back, you can focus on what I want from you can't you?" He watched her nod softly. "You can't cum till I say so understand?" She nodded again. "Say it."  
"Yus." It was muffled and wet and in it's on way enticing.  
"You can take it out if you need but I'd like it to stay as long as it's comfortable. I want to hear your groan over it." He let go of her throat, watching her eyes follow it almost longingly as it left. "You can have it back when you show me you can listen. I don't like repeating myself Cordelia." The cogs turned in her head, her focus shifting from the rules of the real world and what applied here, what was and was not expected of her. Her fingers moved slowly, cautiously finding her clit, circling and stopping, looking at Geralt for some sort of sign or direction and when none came she'd continue. "Spread your legs wider Cordelia. Let me see how dirty and needy you are." This got a whine, her hips arched at his words. Again she followed his request. "Finger yourself Cordelia, you want to be filled don't you? Not just teased? You need more?"  
"I wnnt tu . . .plss." She was moving faster, looking more for relief than reassurance.  
"So good for me Cordelia, just so willing for me." This whine went long and curled into a groan. "Look at you." Geralt stood and took one of her breasts in his hand gripping tight at first but turning gentle, kneading and playing with her. "Are you getting close already? Just from this?" He held her gaze, he could see it, she was focused, just on him because he had control of that relief she was after.  
"Grlllt." He could see the cotton in her mouth growing wet around the sides. "Plss."  
"Stop." He was loud but he was calm. She heard him, she froze, not moving her hand from where it was but not continuing any motion. He reached up and removed the fabric from her mouth. "Fine or Good?"  
"Good." She had a somewhat distant tone to her voice.  
"Cordelia?" He ran his fingers through her hair.  
"Yes?"  
"Will you stay good if we go downstairs?"  
"I'll stay good." Her breath was heavy and floaty at the same time.  
"There's no rush Cordelia." He let his hand rest at the back of her neck, kissing her softly. "You're doing do well for me."  
"Gearalt can I . . ." She sounded like the nerves might return.  
"Do you need something Cordelia?" He didn't want her to ask to cum, he wanted to control that but she was asking him something, wanting something, he had to continue to nurture that.  
"I listened."  
"Hmm?" It took him a second to read what she was shying from asking. "You listened well Cordelia." But she wasn't asking for praise, she always was welcoming of just the minimal words he had, never pushed for more. She was after something else.  
"Can I have it back?" That made it far more clear.  
"Ask nicely Cordelia." He watched the focus start to resettle into her eyes, knowing she could have it all she had to do was ask.  
"Please . . . I just . . . I need . . ."  
"Hmm." His hand went to her throat and he walked her into a wall, pinning her there. "Better?" Standing had left her feeling a bit too open, she needed to feel grounded, held.  
"Yes."  
"Good." It only took a few moments for that calm glossy look to fully return. "Open your mouth again?" She did easily, confidently and let the fabric pass through. He placed a hand at her hip and with an effortless lift he had her over his shoulder. "Now it's time for me to get what I want Cordelia." He made his way for the stairs having her body, her focus and her trust all within his grasp.


	13. tale of two mattresses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just smut . . . Not great smut but it is what it is and I hate it less than most smut I write so I will take that as a win. If that isn't really what you're reading for I will get back to what I'm better at soon I promise.

Her head turned to the side as she took in Geralt's room, it was different. It was dark for one, lamps as well as other assorted furniture that had been down there were missing but it wasn't so much for mood setting, this was Geralt after all, there was a practical reasoning, he had to make room. Room for the mattress he had borrowed from Lambert without asking, having laid it out on his floor. It was a preference thing, he viewed a bed on it's frame for gentle and he would give her that but in his experience the more rough, grounding parts of a scene were done close to the floor, that's the way he liked it, he wanted to give her that too, he wanted to give her everything.

It was Geralt's turn to notice something unexpected, it shouldn't have been but it was. She had taken it upon herself to kneel in front of the mattress on the floor. He forgot sometimes she wasn't entirely new to things, that she had learned habits and such before him. He couldn't help but frown, not because she didn't look wonderful just looking up at him waiting, her posture was solid and calm and comfortable. He frowned because he had wanted to ask her for that, he had imagined that moment, asking calmly and her giving that to him, that moment had passed him by. "Hmm." That frown didn't disappear fast enough because she of course noticed and let it wreck that pretty posture, causing her shoulders to hunch inward, her face to loose it's calm and re root her nerves. "Stand up Cordelia." He wouldn't make her stand just to kneel again, he was a bit disappointed but he wasn't petty. "Don't move without me telling you understand?" He didn't want another moment to slip past him. _'Better for her.'_ She could do the motions fine alone but the moments would be better together he was sure.  
"Yus." There wasn't quite drool but he could tell that fabric was getting heavy against her tongue, he'd have to get all of his use out of it now.  
"Good." He ran his hand through her hair, kissing her forehead again. "Still good Cordelia?"  
"Fnn." She was anxious again but he had worked hard to make her spikes in anxiety smaller, manageable. She was fine but not good, he was unhappy with himself that he had made her that way but he was proud that he didn't have to pry, she didn't lie to be nice, she was still open and honest.  
"Let me fix that?" He was asking for permission to move forward.  
"Yus."  
"Lay over on our bed Cordelia." He had said that mostly for sheer distinction but he could have said mine, he said ours. He was claiming ownership to a lot, to her release, to her ability to move and speak but he wanted to remind her she wasn't a doll or a toy to him. He was devoted to being with her, wanted to have _her_ in _their_ bed. While the anxiety didn't disappear into the ether some fondness found its way back into her gaze at that direction. She followed it just as nicely as those before it, laid there still and waiting, patient for him.

"Let me see your hands Cordelia." He could see eagerness flood the space as her wrists rose towards him. Cordelia, he had decided, was near incapable of being disappointed in him but as the first cuff went around her wrist he could see her wants change, her expectations shift to welcome what he offered. "I know Cordelia." He clasped it to the strap on the corner of his bed. "You wanted pretty knots to hold you. Keep you from doing all that filthy squirming but-"  
"Nn"  
"No? You don't prefer knots?" He watched her eyes go wide as if he wasn't understanding her. "What?" He should have removed the gag, but he knew once it was gone it was gone and he wanted to watch her lips stretch a bit garnish as she tried to say anything. It was a silly little bit of control he wanted to last a little longer.  
"Yr nts Grllt smmpl." How this could have shed light to any form of understanding was only because Geralt had taken the time to understand her words before, hearing her before meant he could hear her now. He let a palm run up her cheek.  
"Mine." He gave an appreciative smile and watched her nod. She had tried to say his name to the best of her ability and she never wanted him more, just as he was, simple. "Soon Cordelia." He was fastening her other wrist. "Soon I'll tie you in simple knots. You can tug at them all you like fight against yourself but I'll have your where I want you." He saw her eyes flutter heard a wanting whine in the back of her throat. He unfurled one of her fists directing her thumb to why he hadn't given her what she wanted this time. There was a clip there, one she could reach, could undo if she needed. He wanted at least at first for something if she couldn't say she needed to get out, she could do so herself. That was one part of his two week plan, he had stalked the mail like a mad man. If one of his nosy brothers had opened the package he'd have been an orphan, forced to kill them and bury them in his backyard to just stop the comments. "You've been so good Cordelia we won't have to use these for long if you show me that you can be good." It was another if statement, one that did pull at her abilities but it was stated calmly with care, from a place of just wanting her safe. Considerate as it was there was still tension rising in her with nowhere to go. She hadn't given any objection when he had her legs spread and restrained like her arms but when he went to place a blindfold on her, she thrashed her head. He stopped, he wasn't sure if this was something she didn't like or if she was just letting her head take over. Her denial of him just made the anxiety rise ten fold, her eyes going through possibilities and dread as she tended to do. "You're fine Cordelia." He found an edge of the bed to sit on, doing his best not to crowd her. "Are you afraid of the dark or are you afraid you're not playing nice?"  
"I cn. Cn b gd." She wasn't fully paniced but she wasn't calm, somewhere closer to pleading to be believed, or forgiven.  
"I know you can. You've been so good for me Cordelia. So easy and open, just exposing yourself for me." He heard that needy whine that even if her jaw had full motion she would have had no words for him. It was one of his most favorite sounds, when he knew her mind was silent for just a second. Things would not go perfectly, Cordelia was rusty and would forever have anxiety lurking in the shadows and Geralt was slightly out of his element, he was not used to moving so slowly, holding attention more through words than actions. This hiccup did not deter him but that whine he craved pressed him forward. He tossed the blindfold on the floor forgetting it completely.

He let his finger tips graze down her stomach, he did it once, twice but the third time his nails dug a little deeper, not painful or piercing but firm. He could hear it again that no want for words whine. He let his mouth join along side his fingers, nowhere intamite, infact every inch of her that wasn't, just tracing and petting along her whole body but starving her of any friction or force she needed. "Pls Geralt." He could feel her body craning, twisting into his touch, trying to guide him into a more lecherous angle.  
"Be patient." He wanted to be slow and gentle and caring but he still wanted control. She groaned a bit of complaint because there was nothing else she could do. She settled though, her breath that had risen was trying to level out. It went on for minutes like that till a want hit him, he always voiced his wants. "Cordelia when you've been good, when I know you can take more . . . Your skin I want . . ." He had seen others do it and in the moment it had always seemed detached and somewhat disinteresting but now he wondered how she'd react. "Have you ever played with candles before Cordelia?"  
"Mhm." Part of having no preferences meant she had allowed for a lot, done a lot.  
"Did you like it?" He wanted pain not from impact but something that made her skin jump, made her hiss and whine, squirm in those knots he promised her.  
"Smtns" That word did not make it even through Geralt's impressive translator so he tried a different question.  
"Would you let me Cordelia? I want you to tell me if you'd like it. Pain not because you've been bad . . . I'll make sure that you'll enjoy it I promise you." This wasn't a demand it was a flight of fancy request and he hoped she understood that.  
"I wnt it Grlt. Anting." Her hips were rising and falling with his continued touches and he reasoned now was maybe not the best time to ask, gag withstanding he wasn't sure there was much she wouldn't agree to in hopes to go beyond heavy petting.

Kissing devolved into biting as Geralt got more and more swept into the moment and as previously stated he sometimes got carried away, one bite into her hip went past teasing and went into pain. He could hear her grunt to take the force. Quickly he let go. "I'm sorry Cordelia did I-" He looked unsure for the first time since they started, he didn't want there to be pain, he was trying to be soft and gentle, he shouldn't have let himself just cave into the feel of her flesh. He left an aplogetic kiss on the imprint his teeth had left feeling a bit guilty at how much the look of the mark pleased him.  
"Pls Grllt . . . I wnt it . . .wnt . . . Mre." He was torn he could hear her ask for more wanting more, of something he enjoyed but his trust was faltering. He wasn't sure if she was easing to his want or stating this as a genuine desire.  
"Cordelia are you good?"  
"Gdd. I . . . Grlt!" She was frustrated and she didn't know what she wanted other than release.  
"You want to cum don't you Cordelia? Nothing else matters does it?"  
"I wnt . . . Pls." The breath through her nose was coming out hot and heavy.  
"You're going to have to ask nicely Cordelia." He finally let his hand wonder down to where she was delightfully wet for him. "Not till I say you can. Not till you convince me you really want it. You said you'd be mine, I've got you spread on display for me but I want to hear you moan like a whore Cordelia." Darker words were showing to push in the right ways, let her drop into a mindset lest plagued with high, impossibly perfect expectations of herself and that's what he wanted. He wanted her to leave the thinking to him, let him control the moment, just focus in on what pleased her. He was slow and teasing only for a few entering thrusts, one and then quickly two fingers were sliding in her heat, angling towards her as she bucked to and away from him.  
"Pls Grlt. Ill. . . Gdd Ill be gdd I swr, juss let mmm-" Her eyes scrunched shut, she couldn't focus on anything but not cumming and he watched how hard she was trying, just for him, moaning just like he asked. "Fk me Grllt pls . . .I wnt-" if she couldn't have release she'd take his. She wanted more than just his fingers she wanted every bit of him.  
"Not yet." As a third finger entered he watched her whole body twist again, riding as close as she could before hopping away from orgasm. She was beginning to drool slightly at trying to talk so much with no results. "So sloppy and strung for me Cordelia. You look wonderful." What maybe ten minutes prior would have gotten a fond smile with her eyes just got another one of those increasingly frequent whines, her head tossing back frustrated. He reached up with his free hand and removed the damp fabric. "If you want something ask for it Cordelia."  
"Please Geralt . . ." Her words still sounded a bit broken and overly breathy. "Please make me cum I'll be good I'll-"  
"Go on Cordelia. Be good for me cum because I told you could." There was one last almost sorrowful whine before it collapsed in on itself, till she was groaning just loud and without care for modesty, letting her mind wash out under a warm wave of bliss. "Just how I wanted you Cordelia. You're doing so well." He was strumming along her body as he watched the release ease out of her body in jerks. "Thank you Cordelia." He waited till her pants evened out. "Is that what you wanted?"  
"I want you to . . ." While tension didn't rise back up, she was still riding a pleasant high, she paused, thinking over the rules of the moment. She wasn't sure if wanting out of turn took from his pleasure, from his control.  
"You want more?" He met her halfway, his tone noticeably less demanding.  
"Yes." With some of her mind about her the embarrassment of openly wanting returned.  
"I still haven't cum and you want more? What a greedy little monster you are." He reiterated with a smirk, he wanted her to take a break, to relax, so he filled the silence.  
"You know it's probably easier to cum if you're fucking something." She had caught the cue that they were while not done playing, pausing somewhat.  
"Someone. A greedy little monster . . . But a person still." While not as harsh on the ears as words he used earlier, monster still wasn't a sweet way to describe someone, yet she looked at him as if it was. He wasn't one for doting terms of endearment, but this came out soft and nearly tender, it was close. "Do you need to lay down for a minute?" He disconnected her limbs from the bed watching her stretch a bit like a cat. "Or some water? Your mouth is probably a bit dry."  
"I'm fine Geralt. . . .Stop looking at me like that, really I'm good." She smiled warmly but still very red in the face.  
"You'll have a cup of water." He still had an air of control about him, the moment was still very much a moment and her well being was more in his hands than it would normally be.  
"Geralt?" Her voice was just a bit anxious as he made his way for the stairs.  
"Yes?"  
"Whose mattress is this?" He doubted it mattered to her, she was just trying not to let her mind wander out of the room.  
"It's my house . . . Don't let anyone convince you otherwise." On the off chance it would bother her he left his answer vague.  
"Alright alpha dog." She gave a bit of a winded chuckle.  
"I'm not a dog." He heard himself snarl and was glad that her recoil seemed mostly superficial. He didn't mean to snap but he really did find getting compared to animals displeasing, he didn't like the inference that he was feral or wild. If it was anyone else he'd just ignore it, words were just words, but it bothered him more when she said it.  
"Wolf? Is that better?" She wasn't doing this maliciously, he had never told her that it bothered him but before he clarified a memory hit him. She had called him a wolf once before, at the bowling alley when they hardly knew one another. It hadn't just been wolf though. _'People would much rather believe that a dashing wolf of a man did have just enough sense to be safe.'_ Of a man, even without knowing his hang up she had made that a point. She, from the very beginning, had never thought him less than a man, never thought him purely an animal. "Don't get carried away with it."  
"You got it wolf."  
"Cordelia." He warned but barely, just like anything else it sounded nice when she said it. The warning had too little heat, too much of a smirk showing.  
"Fine, fine. I'll be good I want to be good."  
"Hmm. I'll be right back . . .less than a minute alright? Be good till then?"  
"Yes." She could remain calm in his absence, he had reassured her.

After some hydration, Geralt spoke again. "Cordelia?"  
"Yes?"  
"Kneel on the mattress for me?"  
"Yes." He had been right, it was better, it felt better watching her sink to her knees, just at his words, just because she wanted to listen, because she was nice and she gave that to him, staid for him. Only then did he really notice exactly how clothed he was, juxtaposed to how bare she had been for so long. "Spread your legs a little wider for me Cordelia." He asked as he removed his shirt. When his head popped out and he got his hair blown out of his eyes he spoke again. "Wider. It's not smart to get shy now when you're still wanting." He stood watching her move as he pulled down his pants. "Eyes forward Cordelia." He saw her eyes linger on him and that did stroke at his ego softly.  
"Not fair." She muttered under her breath nose scrunching a bit put out. She listened though, focusing somewhere off of him.  
"I can be unfair if you want Cordelia. Do you want me to fuck you and not let you cum?" This wasn't about ego it was all about control. Without pain, taking control came either from giving or taking pleasure and comfort it was a different type of duel. She could be a brat, it actually madep him feel more comfortable in their interactions but he'd treat her as such, when she pushed he would push back.  
"No." Her face dipped slightly, she was trying to focus better.  
He came up behind sliding a garter like cuff up each thigh, connecting those clips at her wrists, keeping her arms at her side. "Still good for me Cordelia?"  
"Yes. Geralt let me-"  
"You really can't keep quiet without something in your mouth can you?"  
"I can." It was said fast and a bit scolded. She did not want to take Geralt up on his threat.  
"You just prefer if you did?"  
"Yes." She was receding from reality and back into the fantasy of it. Trying to balance being focused and letting herself get lost.  
"Hmm." It was another little observational little hum. "If you want something Cordelia-" he paused waiting to see if she would rush to cut him off but she was focused, easing for his direction, letting him have control. "Ask me for it."  
"Please can I . . . Can I suck your cock Geralt? I've been greedy I want you to . . . I want you to enjoy it." It wasn't perfect or without pause, not as confident as Geralt but she was doing her best to hold up her end of the scene.  
"You are greedy Cordelia but I don't mind when you ask for it properly." He tried to seem encouraging while not coddling. He stood in front of her and she seemed a bit baffled if all her blinking had anything to say about it. "It's nothing you haven't seen before Cordelia. What's that look for?"  
"You're just so . . ." He could tell she was looking for better more poetic words than what was at the front of her brain.  
"Hard?" He was, painfuly so, for how long had it been? It felt like eternity. All his actions had been on her and his dick was rigid and almost enraged at being so ignored.  
"I've been selfish let me . . . Whatever you need Geralt. I want-" He bunched his fist tight in her hair pulling her stumbling to keep pace with her knees.  
"You'll get what you asked for Cordelia." It was a agreeable sentiment but it was stated darker than any words before it, hungrier, with less patience. He didn't even ask her but her mouth was open, her face leaning in for it. He could have teased her longer, made her beg for it but his body was begging louder than anything Cordelia could possibly muster. He let himself buck into her welcoming mouth, driving straight through and into her throat, she gagged at the rocket force but her eyes were determined and wanting, she leaned in against the reflex. He did not slow down his pace, long powerful glides in and out, not even allowing himself time to really appreciate how her tongue was trying to keep up pace, trying to coax more pleasure out of him. This was more what he was used to, quick firm displays of dominance. He did make sure the gasps that were coming when he pulled out had just and he meant just enough time to refill her lungs but he did not relent. He wanted this to last though, he wanted more of her all of her. "You shouldn't be able to Cordelia . . . Just with your mouth." He seemed almost angry with how he could just so easily spill right over her lips accepting his onslaught. She gave him an apologetic little whine. His hand untangled from her hair and grabbed forcefuly around the back of her neck, pulling her off of him. "Are you trying to take the easy way out Cordelia?" He was dark and cagey and riled, too close to out of control for his liking.  
"No. I'm not. I want you to have me as long as you want me. Please Geralt have what you want." Her fond plead brought some calm back to his breath.  
"What I want?" He had found himself behind her again.  
"Yes."  
"I want to fuck you Cordelia." His hand went from her neck down her shoulder blades to the base of her spine and back up again, grabbing again. "That's all I want." He pushed at his palm, she had no hands to brace herself, her cheek falling straight into the mattress beneath them, his grip holding as if she'd run.  
"Please fuck me Geralt. I want you to be happy with me please . . . I want you to cum." So nice, and fond, so welcoming of him even when he was all grit and gristle, it was everything he had hoped for, something he'd never thought he could ask of someone.

"Greedy little monster." He tried at what had been sweet earlier as he braced a hand at her hips, the other still pinned at her neck.  
"I'm greedy for you Geralt I need you to fuck me please." They had found it, a moment of balanced control, it wasn't all his or all hers just both giving and taking a proportional amount.  
"I knew you would be good for me Cordelia." With less fire in his blood he did start off slow, heavy in his thrusts, but slow. He let himself enjoy the feel of her her this time, the look of her, the sound of her. As he moved with purpose, finding an angle that got those wanting whines from her he let his face bury next to her ear. "Whenever you want Cordelia you've been so good for me you don't need to ask-" He could almost hear the release rushing at the words. "Be greedy for me Cordelia." His grip at her neck tightened, groaning as he felt her close in around him, hugging him tight. He moved his mouth to her shoulder tasting the sweat on her.  
"Please Geralt will you . . ."  
"Will I what? Don't rush Cordelia don't-" He figured she had gotten her fill and while he would wrap it up he still wanted her to know his pet peeve about being hurried.  
"No. As long as you want as long as you need just I want. . . Bite me? When you cum or just . . . Just for a-" She wasn't nudging at his control, this was a flight of fancy request all her own.  
"I have nothing left to keep you quiet with." He was panting, his ears buzzing. What a wonderful want, better yet he trusted her, believed her. He didn't acknowledge her request for another long while, he had no words left for her. All he had were his actions, his teeth, those of a man not an animal, sinking in her shoulder as he buried himself deep. He grinned into her skin as he felt her release with him, he had the moment exactly as he wanted and he floated in that space for longer than anyone had allowed him before, rolling onto his back he just held her against him till the air cooled.

Once she was unclaspped and they had wiped themselves clean Cordelia moved to their bed without a word. He watched her curl into a bit of a ball. "I'm going to grab your blankets from the closet ok?"  
"Mhm." She hadn't really looked at him in sometime and he wished desperately that she would but he had asked so much of her it was his time to ease. He made sure she could never claim anyone, not even Jarre was better at tucking her in than him, no fold of fabric was loose. He wanted to be good at this too. "Cordelia can I sit on the bed with you?" She had been fine with it last time and honestly if she wouldn't look at him maybe having her close would give way to some of the weight he felt growing.  
"If you want." That didn't sound right, didn't sound like Cordelia, it sounded forced and pained, there was no ease there. He opted to sit on the floor mattress, studying her for a quiet fifteen minutes before speaking again.

"Cordelia?" His tone was hushed in case she was falling to sleep.  
"Yes?"  
"It's OK that you're quiet . . . But are you quiet because somethings not ok?" She didn't answer him right away and the air grew tense anxious even.  
"I'll be fine in a little bit. I'm just thinking." She didn't sound sad there was a smile in her voice but she didn't sound fine either.  
"Hmm." He knew she was thinking, she was alive and breathing so there was no cause for him to believe otherwise, she constantly was thinking. "Not particularly happy thoughts?" He did not want to push her, if she needed time and space she could have it but if he could help and didn't he'd view that as a failure.  
"I get like this . . . I . . . Worry." He fought from letting out another acknowledging the obvious hmm, trying to think of a better response.  
"I have a pretty good batting average at working through your worries Cordelia. . . Even if I can't fix them you can't say I'm not a good listener."  
"You do have good ears." Through the not fine fog she still sounded fond. He let out a heavy sigh. "Do you need me call Jarre? I will but please just tell me-" Things had been good, better at times the best, he didn't understand why she was sounding so . . . Crushed.

"Will things be different now? That's a . . . New worry."  
"What things?" He was trying to hear her words, be careful with them, she obviously hadn't been thrilled about opening up on this, he wanted her trust to not be ill placed.  
"Us."  
"No." He stated first and foremost. He was quick to blame Vilge, he was sure their relationship hadn't started in a hospital room, maybe their relationship had been good before play made it toxic. He paused before speaking again, Vilge was an easy scapegoat, this was a new worry, about them. Why did she think they would change? "Unless there's a reason things need to be different."  
"You liked me because I was nice."  
"Wrong tense."  
"Huh?"  
"Are. I like you because you are nice . . . Among other things. That hasn't changed, won't change." He stood. "Let me sit with you?" He waited till she lifted her head, sitting under it, carding his hand through her hair as it descended.  
"Nice people don't get . . . Doesn't like being called a slut . . . Doesn't get off on being gagged and-"  
"Hmm." He shouldn't have been surprised words were her hang up. "I won't call you that again. I didn't know it bothered you." That wasn't true he knew words were combustible when it came to her but he thought he had asked, thought he had been keeping an eye on her comfort. "Cordelia I meant what I said nothing at- "  
"It didn't. I enjoyed it, all of it, you were wonderful Geralt. Everything that just happened was exactly what I wanted. Why I'd like those-" She sounded angry not at him for using those words, with herself for liking them.  
"That's all that matters then." He cut her off with a shrug, he could be patient with her thoughts and still think she thought too much. "If you need to know why, we can sit here and I can give you my educated guess but you don't need to know why and you sure as fuck don't need to feel guilty. As long as I can give you what you want that's all that matters."He waited for a response but got a shrug of a sigh and one of her least impressive smiles. "You are nice Cordelia. I thought that when I met you I think that now. It doesn't matter why you like what you like. Your likes are . . . Each one is better than the last." It frustrated him that she would tarnish her own reputation, think lower of herself for getting what she wanted, for allowing him to explore them. His sigh was equally frustrated. "If I had to guess . . . I'd say its because it makes wanting simple for you. If only wanting makes sense, if it's your only option, what's expected of you, then wanting becomes simple. Simple wants are the best to have, trust me. You shouldn't . . .please don't feel guilty."  
"Makes sense." She was smiling for him but even vaccum sealed in every available blanket she looked cold.  
"You're not a slut. I don't view you that way if that's what you're worried about." He added just for clarity. " I hope you don't think me someone who just constantly barks commands." Bad example, sometimes he did very much do that. He started over. "Out in the real world I would never want to cause you pain, call you names, even quiet you. I like hearing you talk . . . I'd like you to talk now. There's play to enjoy parts of you that are . . . A part of you but not what you . . .fuck." Despite Cordelia's teases he was not a professor on the sexual consciousness, he didn't have a prepared thesis for this conversation. He knew what she meant, he occasionally got those thoughts, that his wants were deviant, or reflected on who he was as a person but perhaps it just bothered him less. He could just want what he wanted, get it whatever way was suitable and move on. That part of his life was just that, a part, it had its purpose and it's place. Cordelia's mind lingered over every word and action, kept her reading into things she shouldn't.  
"I . . . You're right." Her nod had a bit more warmth. She could make sense of it from the outside looking in and if it applied to Geralt it maybe could apply to her too.  
"I just . . . Please don't let anything I do . . . Or that you do . . . Make you doubt that you're . . ." He really wanted a better word than nice, and it frustrated him to no end that none had ever come.  
"You've talked enough Geralt, it's not only my jaw that got the work out." This sounded like Cordelia, just letting him ease through his faults, appreciatively reminding him he didn't have to fix everything wrong with the world in one go.

"I did promise I'd call Jarre when I-"  
"He needs proof I didn't murder you?" Geralt wasn't offended, just glad her head was moving on to anything else. "That's fine just wait till your ready to move. I'd prefer you take the call upstairs. I don't mind you two gossiping about me, just not in front of my face."  
"Fair. You can take that time and call Jaskier back."  
"Jaskier?" He didn't have anyone concerned about his safety, he didn't have a wellness check to make.  
"When you were getting water your phone vibrated six times. Now I didn't peak, my mind was elsewhere but I will bet all the money to my name your best friend is dying to know what happened."  
"Hmm." He reached out to his end table and squinted at his phone.  
"So?"  
"Nine phone calls and twelve text messages. I did tell him to leave me alone today."  
"And you thought that would stop him? Call him back before he breaks in through a window." She started wiggling out of her covers. Once she pulled some fresh clothes from her drawer and went upstairs Geralt hit the call button.  
"Geralt?! You have to-"  
"Are you currently on fire?"  
"No."  
"In prison?"  
"No."  
"Being chased by whoever your wandering dick has pissed off now?"  
"Not presently. Really Geralt you'd be proud of me I-"  
"Stop calling."  
"Is it over? Was it good? Was it magical Geralt? I hope it truly was everything Geralt. You two are quite the match. Tell me every detail Geralt I have been waiting for-"  
"It was good Jaskier."  
"It was good? Geralt you can not possibly expect me to be satisfied with a three word summary of a moment of extasy! I demand you tell me-"  
"Jaskier you are never satisfied." Geralt sighed. It was an annoying but in its own way admirable trait.  
"True but-"  
"Stop calling Jaskier. . . We will see you tomorrow."  
"Tomorrow? Not coming out tonight? Can the poor girl not stand straight after you-"  
"Goodbye Jaskier." Geralt hung up the phone.


	14. sweet dreams

"Geralt?" A familiar voice was trying to wake him, he didn't want to wake up letting out a dismissive huff of air, hooking his leg over Cordelia and burrying his face in her hair, hiding from morning. "Fine the more persuadeble of the two. Cordelia you need to wake up." That was Vesemir's voice. What was he doing in his room.  
"Fuck." He wasn't in his room was he? Were they? _'Fuck.'_ They had watched a movie in the den . . . Rather they had started to watch a movie in the den. He was naked, under a blanket thankfully but naked none the less. They had not finished that movie. No Cordelia had fucked him, in a way different than earlier in the day, just effortless, and . . .playful, there wasn't much focus or control, it was close to your run of the mill average sex but Geralt had been on the receiving end, no mood setting or dominance required and it had made it rewarding in it's own right. . . Relaxing.  
"What is wrong with you people?" Cordelia was shuffling under his weight, almost falling off the couch but he just held her tighter. "It's Sunday . . . It's fucking early . . . On a sunday!" She would never get used to this family's penchant for mornings.  
"Things need seeing to, even on Sundays Cordelia."  
"Yes, after noon. That's when weekends start."  
"Hmm." Vesemir sounded more than a bit skeptical of her claim.  
"It's genetic?" Cordelia as much of a morning grouch that she was, did find it in herself to laugh at that acknowledging hum, unbothered for words, it wasn't as distinctly Geralt as she had presumed.  
"Be glad I was the one to wake you. I'm sure the other two stooges are not far behind." Geralt could feel Cordelia get the smallest bit tense at the prospect of one of his brothers finding them. They were back in the real world, it had been a nice vacation.  
"You're fine." He started to finally wake himself up, finally shifting into Vesemir's not judging but impatient line of vision.  
"Now get dressed. Cordelia you can help me with breakfast and Geralt you can clean . . . Whatever needs to be cleaned."  
"What-" Well he did need to return Lambert's mattress, which left Geralt grumbling at the thought of the surely awkward walk through the house but they hadn't torn at the rafters, what needed to be cleaned? "Why is there popcorn . . . Everywhere?"  
"I don't know why but I know it wasn't there when I left Geralt." No, he was sure Vesemir had taken a mental snapshot of the house before leaving, wanting it exactly that way when he returned.  
"Hmm." Then he remembered. He and Cordelia had a competition of sorts to see who was better at catching popcorn in their mouth. One of them had precise and predictable aim and reflex, one of them had allowed piece after piece to bop off her nose like a circus seal. There had been a big handful thrown at him for being unfairly good at . . . Everything if he remembered her pout correctly. Why were these memories coming in hazy? It had been just the night before. They had drank but not to the level of missing chunks of his night. Geralt scoffed at himself once he realized the issue.  
"Are you alright Geralt?" She wasn't moving, much out of fear of losing blanket coverage but she still craned in a way to turn to him, smile at him.  
"I'm good." His brain had tossed out these memories by morning because it found them too nice and light and fun to be fact, easier to assume them fabricated in his sleep, dreams. "I didn't make this mess. You did. I shouldn't be stuck cleaning it up. Give me a few minutes Ves, I'll help you with breakfast."  
"Not your mess but it is your house-" Even Geralt could agree it was too early to go on about the house. "You allowed for this mess to happen so it's your responsibility." Ves wasn't normally so picky about who did what so long as things got done. As Geralt yawned long and loud, forcing the last of the sleep out of him, he realized, Ves had an alternative motive. He wanted to speak to Cordelia alone.  
"Can we have a minute Ves?" No one was doing anything naked so he had a few minutes to think it over.  
"You can have ten."

"Cordelia?" He was focused on finding each kernel that dropped not looking at her as he spoke.  
"Yes?"  
"Ves is going to want to talk to you."  
"Is that a bad thing?" She wasn't concerned like he was, more hopeful.  
"About me. . . Us."  
"I would imagine so. I don't know what other interests we share." Her smile dropped at the grumble she got in response. "You're worried."  
"No." Geralt didn't worry, at least not about little things like conversations over breakfast. "He might bring up my mother and I-"  
"He can try." Short of speaking about foods she did and did not like he wasn't sure Cordelia had ever sounded so flippantly confident. Maybe finally have her itch scratched had put her in a more settled frame of mind.  
"Ves doesn't try, if he wants to speak to you about something you're going to listen."  
"Mhm." She nodded as if she understood but clearly she didn't.  
"I just want you to know that I don't-"  
"If you want to talk about it we'll talk about it until then . . . you hatched from an egg on Vesemir's doorstep for all I care."  
"I-" It wouldn't be that simple.  
"Egg on his doorstep Geralt. Aww." Her tone turned sarcastically mournful for a second and he finally looked up at her.  
"What?"  
"My dress." She held up what was left of it, a sad little smile on her face. "Poor thing. It never stood a chance."  
"I'm . . . I tried to warn you." He was absolutely not sorry, he'd destroy that dress a hundred times over if given the chance. He could hear it ripping all over again. He could because it was, she was tearing a little length off, handing it to him. "Hmm?"  
"It was a pretty color." She held out her wrist. "Tie a simple knot for me?" She looked down at her hand. Geralt tried to keep a stupid smile off his face, he could feel his muscles work against himself. It wasn't his fault, she couldn't blame him if he was grinning like an idiot, that action and question was sickeningly spoon fed sweet, just warmed all parts of him. He tied her simple knot looking down at it almost smugly satisfied with the moment.  
"Are you this nice all the time Cordelia? To everyone?" He never thought to ask her that before, maybe he had been concerned that it would make things between them less, but that was a concern that was passing.  
"I try to be."  
"It isn't tiring?"  
"It is when I'm woken up before the crows. Nice is easier after noon." She planted a kiss on him before starting for the kitchen.

"He's a strong boy Geralt." Vesemir threw out when they had gotten eggs and toast sorted.  
"Man."  
"I'm sorry?"  
"He's not a boy Vesemir, he's a man." Bacon was almost done Cordelia was tunneled in on task after task, a trick she used to make words come just a little easier.  
"Maybe to you." Vesemir gave a slight chuckle. "He'll always be a boy to me."  
"Exactly." She smiled into the pancake batter she was whisking rhythmically.  
"Yes I know you think I'm being overbearing, protective over someone who doesn't need protecting but see here Cordelia he-"  
"He needs your protection, I'm glad he has it. Yours, Eskel's, Lambert's even Jaskier's. He needs all the protection he can get."  
"From you?"  
"I was speaking in more general terms but if I'm being honest. . . Maybe sometimes . . . I can be a lot. I am not . . . unaware of how draining I can be." She was self aware, a gift that twisted into a curse.  
"I just don't want Geralt running himself into the ground to prove he loves you."  
"You're getting ahead of yourself."  
"How so?"  
"Geralt doesn't love me."  
"Boy's not the expressive type but he does-"  
"Care about me, I know. He's more expressive than you give him credit for."  
"He is falling for you Cordelia and he has not opened himself up to anyone in . . . He's tried but he always tries too hard, forces himself to fix what he thinks is-"  
"He doesn't have to open himself up to me, he doesn't have to love me, he _can't_ fix me. He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want. For one, he doesn't want to tell me about his mother and I'd appreciate if you respected that." She was smart, dodging the topic not by deflecting but speaking the language this family understood, direct.  
"See that's what gives me pause Cordelia, you say you want nothing from him but I know that's a lie. Wether it's to him or yourself you're lying and he'll be in too deep before either of you realize it."  
"Geralt?!"  
"Having him fight your battles at first push." Vesemir scowled.  
"Yes?" Geralt was in the room in seconds almost as if he had been easdropping.  
"What have I wanted from you?"  
"Do you . . . Are you asking for a list?" Now that Geralt put some thought to it, there was quite a list, he harped on her for not wanting but she had, wanted a vast array of things from him. Some mundane like holding his hand, some more salacious like firm holds, simple knots . . . His cock. To things abstract like for him to know he was a good person or for their relationship not to be bogged down with labels of love.  
"Sure." She shrugged a bit uneven at the prospect of bullet points but trying to stay confident.  
"For me to be a less unhappy." All those wants boiled down to one thing in his mind. Every one of her wants, even those that were entirely for her met in the same place inside him, in making him a little less unhappy.  
"Musings of puppy love." Vesemir was not convinced.  
"He's not a puppy." Cordelia's smile was slightly dented but she didn't stall out completely as she focused diligently on her perfect pancakes.  
_'Wolf.'_ Geralt rolled his eyes knowing she was mentally calling him that  
"And he's not in love." There was already a sermountable stack of the fluffy saucers. "He's just trying his best . . . We're trying our best. . . I'm not asking for the benefit of the doubt . . . You can doubt me, I get it . . . I doubt me. . . Every waking moment of every day." Her shoulders curled in that sad understanding way that Geralt detested. "Just doubt . . .and give all your sage advice and . . . Sit and have breakfast with us. . . Please?" She handed Vesemir her mountain of pancakes and all the good will and backbone she had to spare.

The success of their weekend had made Monday morning bearable. It was always his least favorite workday, not because it was returning to work but because he spent so much of it behind a computer. Filling paperwork, setting up appointments, it was dull and tedious but Geralt had a lingering good mood, a buzz of rejuvenated energy which he should have known ment his bad luck would strike again. "Geralt can I talk to you real quick?" It was Foltest, his supervisor. It wasn't the end of the month so it wasn't time for an evaluation and unless that weekend had spanned months it wasn't his birthday so he doubted there was a cake in that office, no good news was coming Geralt's way.  
"Sure." Geralt took bad news same as he took any news, without much fuss. He followed Foltest wondering if he was going to be asked to take on a larger case load, or change his hours, it didn't much matter, work was work, he'd roll with it.

"Do you remember Radovoid?" Foltest had, in the months Geralt had been working there, given up starting conversations with asking how Geralt was doing, what he had done over the weekend, how was the family, he always got some variation of the word fine as an answer, it was wasted breath small talk.  
"I remember he didn't like me very much." It had been almost within the first week or two into his transfer here that he had done the check in with Radoviod that led to his parole being revoked.  
"I would call that an understatement. He had his driver hit you with his car outside the courthouse."  
"Graze."  
"What?"  
"Grazed me with his car." He had a nasty bruise on his hip but he had been quick enough to dodge the brunt of the impact.  
"Are you arguing with me over the level of which someone tried to kill you?"  
"Not arguing." Geralt shrugged in his chair, if Foltest wanted to be dramatic about it that was fine. "Is he filing a complaint against me?" That happened . . . A lot. Not just to Geralt just in general, you weren't doing your job right if there wasn't formal complaints against you just . . . Doing your job.  
"He was let out again." Foltest was expecting some sort of reaction out of Geralt but all he got was another shrug.  
"Happens." Geralt was new to this office, not to the judicial system, people with means always found a way out. "I don't want his case though." Geralt wasn't a fan of big names and political ties, drama had no place in his job. He preferred trying to actually help people who were trying to do better. If it was assigned to him he'd take it but he always voiced his wants.  
"Geralt he was making a lot of threats behind bars. Not just at you but-"  
"Here I was feeling special." This also happened . . . A lot. Those who felt scorned always talked a big game of getting back at who wronged them, some were bold enough to act on it, Geralt just saw it as part of the job. _'Happens.'_  
"Radovoid isn't some street pusher Geralt. He's a bonefied drug lord he has connec-"  
"Lord." Geralt let out a snort, he hated that term, drug lord, it sounded too proper and poised for what they really were, street thugs with the money to become tyrants of their community.  
"I need to ask if you wanted police to schedule a courtesy sweep around your home for a few weeks. Just a quick drive round your block make sure there are no-"  
"It's fine." Just as if Foltest was asking how his weekend had gone, just as simple and unbothered of a reply.  
"Fine." It was unclear if Foltest had expected this exchange to go any different. "I know you can take care of yourself but just let your friends and family know to be more vigilant of strangers for a while alright?"  
"Sure." Geralt went back to his desk, went back to his work it wasn't till much later in the day that it hit him. While he had been in situations like this before, things were different now.

"Hey. Pause your game." Geralt was barely through the door, he wanted to get this formality out of the way as quick as possible.  
"Want a turn? You can have winner." Lambert was used to Geralt in a constant state of motion, it was odd to see him just standing there.  
"I . . . Sure, after." Geralt had no withstanding plans, he had been scolded enough not to play hard to get.  
"After?" Eskel saw what Lambert didn't, Geralt was serious . . . More serious than usual, perhaps that's what was planting him. "Bringing work home again?"  
"Hmm." That was one way of putting it. "Just be . . . Don't be idiots alright? Keep to yourselves for a little while."  
"Don't get in strangers vans even if they do have candy?" Lambert was still young enough to think himself invincible. Geralt was strong, and unflinching. He didn't back away from threats, but he did acknowledge them as such, he knew he was nearly mortal as most.  
"Take it serious Lambert you too Eskel. If something happens . . . Just let me know ok? Don't be a fucking hero."  
"That your job?" Eskel gave a snort.  
"His problem is with me." Geralt saw it as his problem, his threat, this conversation should be the most burden placed on his brothers regarding the issue.  
"Nah." And Eskel unpaused the game focusing back on the screen.  
"Dick!" Lambert scrambled to pick up his controler.  
"Nah? Eskel-"  
"He's got a problem with you. He's got a problem with all of us. Unlucky asshole. We'll deal with it." Eskel shrugged.  
"Dont deal with it just-"  
"Call you for backup. Got it. No heros here, you included."  
"Hmm." Geralt heard the concern, the offer Eskel was making that if this threat became tangible he could lean on his brothers for aid, he wouldn't, but he could, he always could. "I know."  
"How'd Cordelia take it?" Lambert's eyes drifted with genuine curiosity. He had heard Geralt's don't be a hero speech half a dozen times maybe more, he was wondering how his easily spooked girlfriend had responded. "More importantly how'd Jarre take it?" Lambert could hear his friend's head exploding from his seat.  
"Fuck." Geralt's eyes went wide as both those questions fought for supremacy in his brain. He had taken the information on auto piolit, overlooking that things had changed since all the other times before.  
"You haven't told her yet?" Lambert smirked as he gave an educated guess.  
"Fuck." He was playing out in his head how best to break this news, in each play through it ended with Cordelia scared for his life till the ends of time, or Jarre angry that Geralt had put Cordelia in harms way . . . Till the end of time. All scenarios were so definite.  
"The girl might like the thought of getting pushed-" Eskel started.  
"Don't." Geralt snarled that word out with enough anger that the game paused again. Eskel could see how dark Geralt's glare was, his pupils wide and full of not rage and certainly not fear but something closer to fight. "Eskel if you . . . Joke about that I'll-" Geralt had no tail to that threat and that made it all the more menacing, there was no telling what Geralt would do if Eskel even teased that Cordelia in peril was anyway amusing.  
"Fine." Eskel knew he had pushed too far. "She can have my number."  
"Huh?"  
"She ain't no fucking hero that's for sure. I work nights if she needs saving and you're not around. She can call me."  
"Hmm." Geralt's eyes grew wider and darker still. It was a gesture in the right direction. Geralt appreciated the sentiment but it was a moote point. If someone came at Cordelia, he didn't want any of the restraint Eskel might show towards them. Eskel didn't care about Cordelia like Geralt did. It was Geralt's job to protect her. It was his fault that there was a possible danger at her doorstep.  
"I'd . . . Check on her . . . Maybe? Before you go on a killing spree? She's probably fine." Lambert was growing unsettled by how bleak and desperate Geralt's long face was.  
"Hmm." Geralt just left the den without another word.

Once in the basement he dialed, as it rang he opened a drawer at his nightstand, pulling out a square of a now infamous yellow fabric, running it through his fingers as the rings grew longer. He wasn't worried. It was doubtful if Radovoid had a long hit list that his parole officer's girlfriend would be high up on it but Geralt was simply . . . In a mood, all these hypotheticals tilting him from center. "Hello Geralt." The smile in her voice pulled a leveling breath out of him.  
"Hmm." Alright maybe a small part of him had been even the tiniest bit concerned.  
"Geralt?"  
"Cordelia where are you?" Talking to her was good but he was considering going to her, seeing her, having her around, safe. It would make him feel a little more in control.  
"At the bar. Geralt are you alright?"  
"No." Don't lie to be nice don't lie to be mean, simple rule.  
"Oh." She sounded as if she paused whatever it was she was doing. "Tell me what's wrong?"  
"At work today . . ." How to say it without losing all her good mood from the weekend, the small bit of Jarre's trust he had. "Bad day at work." He shook his head, this wasn't like him, he was direct, straight forward. "Cordelia you might not want to come to the house for a . . . Just for a bit, till I-"  
"Wait. Because of work?" She sounded skeptical, which was fair it was an abrupt statement.  
"Yes."  
"Geralt you swear it's because of work?" That sentence sounded of on brand Cordelia anxiety, the nerves were back.  
"What else would it be?" No other reason to want her at arms length came to mind but Cordelia was quick to fill in the gaps.  
"This weekend? If you didn't . . . If Vesemir is upset with me or if . . . You want some time to yourself I understand."  
"Time to myself." Would it be a lie? If he told her he needed time? He could spend his time alone and not have her ease interrupted by an omen of some boogeyman out to get them. "I had a good weekend Cordelia." His thumb dug into the fabric hard. He didn't want her to doubt in any way that the weekend had been any less than everything he had wanted. "I just . . . I had a bad day at work." His problem, his threat, not hers, he wanted her to stay, safe and held, he didn't want her to run.  
"Bad how?" She was patient, she was giving him time to tell the truth or time to measure rope long enough to hang himself if he chose.  
"Parolee who . . . Someone got out who shouldn't. I was just checking in on you . . . I . . . My family is used to-"  
"Are you ok? They didn't hurt you did they?" He could hear it, less than he had assumed but it was there, scared for him, sad for him, feeling for him.  
"I'm fine. You dont have to worry Cordelia everything will be ok." He was pushing back against those feelings.  
"Ok." It was still scared, a little less sad. It wasn't so bad. It wasn't so bad because he was leaving it out, he hadn't told her of the direct threat itself, but she got the jist right? He didn't have to spell it out did he? This was enough?  
_'Should.'_ He should, just to be sure, just so she knew to be more careful, just so she knew why he would be more hesitant to have her stay over on the off chance someone was watching.  
"Doesn't this happen . . . From time to time?" She had heard him talk of work before, she wasn't completely in the dark.  
"All the time." Things were different this time, new, better, more vulnerable.  
"Do you always get . . . This way when it happens?"  
"No." He was shutting down, holding back, keeping part of it from her, keeping her safe from it, if she believed he would keep anyone from hurting her she would stay, that made sense. It was his problem, his threat, he could take care of it without worrying her. This mantra was driving his words.  
"What's different about this one?" She wasn't pushing, just asking obvious questions in that eased tone he liked so much.  
"He's nothing special." He wasn't going to feed into the lore of the criminal 'lord.' "Had to think about more people than usual . . You." Should he warn Jaskier? He wasn't sure if the man who bled drama would be terrified or thrilled that someone could possibly want Geralt and or his loved ones dead.  
"So . . . I can't come over because . . . Are you worried he'll try to find you Geralt?" As he knew she would be, her fond concern was bleeding over him, his well being, his safety. She shouldn't have to, he was in control of his environment, his safety, the state of his world.  
"I . . . He might. It has happened." Geralt thought hard for a moment. He was still feeling askew and was trying to figure out what he needed to get back. Why was center not coming?  
"Oh." She was thinking too, the line grew quiet. "Geralt?"  
"He likely won't do anything about anything. Probably is all talk."  
"You are coming to the bar tonight right? I can't come to the house but you're not just going to hide from me are you?" Was she still managing a smile?  
"I . . ." Previously when someone threatened him he would keep a low profile, just work and home, it wasn't a huge cramp to his routine.  
"Please?" That made him wince, pained his chest, he normally liked her pleases, but this one wrenched him more off kilter. "Just want to see you. Make sure You're alright. Let me try to make your bad day better?"  
"Hmm." So soft and caring and fond, she reacted to this as she did with everything else.  
"You really are getting better at asking." He wasn't going to let a silly threat from some thug keep him from her, he'd just have to be more careful than usual, no room for error. He did go out to the bar, let her worry and fawn over him. Holding her close to him as Jaskier, despite being asked not to, retold of Geralt and Radovoid's previouss interaction. Kissing her till the uber driver threatnted to leave her. He did all he could for her and it made him feel all the more exhausted going home to sleep alone.

He woke up sore, his side was swollen and aching, his whole head had a sense of echo and grog to it, his right arm wasn't responding to any direction. ' _This isn't my bed.'_ He sat up, making the ache go sharp and piercing. _'Car accident?'_ Looking around he noticed he was in a hospital bed. It took some shifting of weight, liberal cursing and heavy determination for him to get out of bed.  
"Geralt sit back down." Vesemir had caught him trying to leave. "I told you once we get any news we'll tell you."  
"News?" Geralt's stomach sank. "Who . . . Who else was hurt?" Maybe he had been in a fight? Had he lost control and really hurt someone? How was that the best case scenario he could think of?  
"Lay back down Geralt you can't do anything for her right now."  
"Her?" Geralt's pain left him, all sense of feeling left him, he was numb. "Cordelia?"  
"Geralt lay-"  
"Where is she?" Geralt was bunching a fist in Vesemir's shirt.  
"Geralt . . ." That wasn't an answer, he needed an answer. He let go of Vesemir and hobbled past him. The hall was empty, quiet.  
"Cordelia?!" He had to find her. "Cordelia?" The hall seemed to be endless, white long and lonely. His patience had been burnt through by the time he found a receptionist desk. The palm he could move slammed into the laqeured wood. "I'm looking for Cordelia Ellander."  
"You shouldn't be." The woman at the desk's face looked generic as anything he was forgetting it as he looked at her, but her voice rang hauntingly within his ears, it had a very distant familiarity to it.  
"Where is she?"  
"Not your concern. You don't get to have her anymore. You're not worth it."  
"What?" He shook his head, he must've misheard her.  
"When you can't do something so simple why do you think she'd want to see you? Not safe not loved, what would seeing her do anyway?" Her cadence was professional but her words were cruel.  
"Keep your opinion to yourself." He needed answers not a debate. "Doesn't matter if she doesn't want to see me. Where is she?" He needed to see her, he could fix this, he just needed to know where she was.  
"I have nothing to do with it." She gave a cold shrug.  
"Who does?" But she just got up . . . Just left. Geralt tried to clean his ear, shake his head to make sense of what just happened, but when the off feeling in his skull didn't quell he just grumbled. _'Don't have time. Got to find her.'_

He kept on with purpose, shuffling down another hall till a new sound called out to him. Monitor beeps, machines whirling and buzzing. It brought him to a door and through the small window he saw her, had found her. "Cordelia." He didn't know what was wrong, she looked just . . . Asleep but all those wires and tubes going everywhere could not be signs of good health. He tried to open the door but it was locked. He slammed a fist into the trivial barrier between them.

  
"Geralt?" He couldn't see the man's face, a chart or something obstructing him from view. The voice though, again, and this time more so . . . Familiar.  
"Yes? Can I see her? What's . . . What happened?"  
"She's hurt." A doctor? Maybe? Hopefully.  
"Will she be ok? Can you help her? I . . . I need to see her. Let me in to see her."  
"I could have helped her but you told her you would be better. That you wouldn't hurt her." The chart fell and the face was Vilge's.  
"A nightmare." Geralt stated vapidly.  
"You sure are." Vilge nodded. " She'll crawl back to me when she sees you for the nightmare you are. I might have been too rough, but she's in danger just being associated with you. I'll have her back the way I want her."  
"No." Geralt's teeth ground, his head pounded.  
"She'll love it. Love me. Because I have a use for her. For all those sweet little feelings she has. I can have them, handle them not like you. Sad little puppy"  
"They're not for you. I won't . . . I can keep her safe."  
"Her body? Who cares about that? I don't, she doesn't, she'd let you bruise and break her and she wouldn't stop being just . . . So nice, too nice."  
"Shut up."  
"Why are you wasting everyone's time . . . You can't love her. She wants that, is in danger because she wants it so bad. So nice, too nice . . . Too nice for you . . . For your world. Not a hero you're a fucking coward, only in it to get your dick wet. You're no better than me."  
"I said shut up!"  
"Be less than better Geralt, that's what everyone expects of you. That's all the opening I need."  
"I won't let that happen." Geralt was growling, his whole body shaking.  
"You won't lose her? You really are dreaming. At least when I sent her here she got some pleasure out of it." At this Geralt lunged, just tackled with all the wobbly force he had. He cracked his fist straight into Vilge's cocky grin. It did not satisfy, did not satiate his rage. "Thanks for keeping her warm for me." He still had the gal to mock.  
"Stay. Away. From. Her." Another thick thud of bone on bone. "I won't let you take her from me." He was panting as another blow fell. "I won't." Another. Vilge seemed like was trying to scramble away but Geralt's weight kept him pinned. "Don't run." Another. "Stay." He was fighting, with all his muscle, with all his dark damaged energy. "Don't leave." He wasn't talking to the man taking the beating any longer. "Cordelia. I will . . ." He was sweating, burning, aching. "Don't leave." He could hear the machines and monitors beep and buzz in alarm. It was loud, deafening. "Please." Louder, another punch, there was blood, he was out of control. Louder still, bells whistles, alarms, his alarm. His phone chime finally sucked him back to reality as he woke with a choked gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an uneventful chapter I apologize but needed a palette cleanser between smut and banter.


	15. a place of business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know exactly how many times I used the word fuck in this chapter, somewhere between far too much and exactly the right amount.

He wanted to hear her, hell he wanted to drive to her home and see her, hold her, know as flesh and blood fact she was fine, they were fine but that was a bit desperate, a sign of weakness he would not allow himself even in his half rattled state. He reached for his phone, staring at her contact for till the screen dimmed. _'No need to spook her.'_ Everything was fine, they were fine, it had just gotten good, she was just feeling comfortable, he didn't want to stumble, didn't want anything to change. He wasn't one to deny his wants once he knew what they were though, reservations or not. Lead by example, ask for what you want. He dialed.  
"Good morning Geralt." She sounded absolutely miserable for being woken.  
"Sorry for waking you.Thank you for picking up." Miserable as she was she hadn't snapped, she had answered his want with groggy ease.  
"Mhm." She let out a yawn.  
"I . . . Cordelia can I . . . When do you normally take your break?"  
"Coinencidently the exact time you go on lunch." She yawned. "Miss me already?"  
"Hmm." She wasn't dumb, she knew something was bothering him, but she always gave him time to get there himself. "I want . . . I need to talk to you."  
"About the work thing?" It would be the obvious guess that the previous night's hot topic would be the source of his bother but the question in her voice spoke of knowing Geralt better, knowing it was more, a bigger picture.

"The way I'm missing you . . . Isn't right." It wasn't controlled, it wasn't sane, it wasn't going away.  
"Your lunch isn't that long Geralt." She wasn't saying no but she was implying the conversation he wanted would probably stretch beyond an hour. "Play hooky? Take a mental health day? I know the bar tender. I can get you some free drinks if you play your cards right."  
"Hmm." She was staying so purposefully light and airy, acting as if this was normal because she knew Geralt wanted normal back desperately. "No drinks." Alcohol would not improve his mood.  
"Geralt?"  
"Yes?"  
"We'll talk about it later but . . . Is how you're feeling is it because of something I did?" Her rational mind knew it wasn't, but just because Geralt was going through emotional growing pains did not mean her anxiety could just patiently wait it's turn to shine.  
"You're too nice Cordelia."  
"I can . . . Is it getting on your nerves? Or throwing you off? I thought . . ." Slower due to her tiredness but all the possibilities were tumbling. "Geralt I can dial it back."  
"No you _can't._ " She was two things, nice and anxious, she wouldn't be her without being either or a confusing mix of the two.  
"I can . . . Be less . . ."  
"I want you nice." He could hear how frustrated he sounded with himself.  
"But it's too much?"  
"I just . . . If you were less nice I'd be . . . Less likely to . . . You'd . . . I'd be more confident you'll stay."  
"You still think you can't have nice things?" She gave a sad little sigh.  
"Hmm." She had deciphered his circular early morning musing, she had been listening.  
"You want it though?"  
"Yes." It was twisting his feeling for her, making her feelings for him painful and he wasn't a masochist, pain was synonymous with being out of control. "We'll talk more later I'll let you go back to sleep. I'm going to call the office."  
"We are bad influences on one another."  
"What?"  
"First I'm calling in sick, now you . . . We're going to be adding our employers to the list of people who think our relationship is toxic."  
"It's not." He knew she was teasing, but not now, not about this. "It's good Cordelia . . . I'm just . . . Go back to sleep."  
"Miss you already." He even liked her partings best, even they were fond and thoughtful, had ease for his woes.

"Hello Geralt." Marx was behind the bar as always but Cordelia was nowhere to be seen.  
"Hello."  
"She'll be out in a bit. I wouldn't distract her right now. Made that mistake earlier nearly had her fry her fillings."  
"She's what rewiring the place?" What didn't they have her do here?  
"I just pick the Playlist and serve the drinks." Marx shrugged. "Imput for either?"  
"I'll wait." That's what he did, quiet and near motionless he sat in the chair contorted for his brooding and waited with his thoughts.  
As Marx tested Geralt's patience by playing I walk alone for a third consecutive time all power to the place went out.  
"Fuck!"  
"Hmm." So she did everything here but she was not exactly a professional. "Cordelia?"  
"Geralt?! Don't worry I'll fix it! I think. . . Nope . . . fuck."  
"Hmm." He was done waiting. He helped himself to the back of the bar, not that if Marx had protested it would have meant much.

"Cordelia?" She was shaking her hands loose as if to bring feeling back to them. "Are you . . . What the fuck are you doing?"  
"Turning the lights back on . . . Hopefuly?" Her voice had a hiss of hurt to it, almost on the edge of tears.  
"Sit down for a minute. Unless you really are afraid of the dark." He remembered momentarily how she bucked away being blindfolded.  
"I'm not." She didn't ask why she just sat down on the floor looking up at him, fond but her face still half pained.  
"Hmm." He sat down across from her. "Let me see your hands." Again with just ease, he asked and they were his, palms right out in front of him. He took one and started kneading into the muscle carefully, her face contorted, this was causing more pain. "Trust me it will be better." He heard her let out an adjusting breath to the pressure.  
"I do it just . . . Fuck!" She pouted for a moment. "Ow."  
"Just . . . Focus on me . . . On what I'm doing." It was working, her palm that had been hard and tense was easing loose under his fingers. Something surprised him though. While her face slowly lost the pain, it relaxed only long enough to shift . . . Sad. "What?"  
"No one did this for you. When you were tazed did they?"  
"No." He shrugged, thinking the situation different and fully unimportant. "Was more than just my hands though." He moved from her left to her right. "Would have taken ages."  
"That shouldn't matter."  
"Huh?"  
"You deserve ages Geralt. I know it's much too late for what happened then but I'd gladly give you a massage if you'd like? Even if it takes ages you deserve not to be tense." It was a sweet offer but not one he was inclined to take.  
"I don't . . . Like people's hands all over me." He had gotten propper massages during physical therapy for an injury years back and it had always left him more tense not less.  
"What if . . . You were in charge of where my hands go?" This made Geralt pause, had him thinking, she had listened just to his words. It wasn't the touch that had bothered him, it was the not knowing, the lack of control, laying under someone just having to bare his body to any motion they deemed fit. She had heard that clearly. "You can sit in your comfy chair and I'll just rub your shoulders for an hour if that's all you want."  
"Hmm." He became acutely aware of every knot in his shoulders, could already feel her fingers prone at them. "Will you let me?"  
"Hmm." This was the too nice, the too tender that was so alien to him. He wanted it but he . . . What would happen when it was gone? Because he didn't know how to appreciate it, accept it properly. What if he was forced to watch someone else have it? What if because he couldn't take all of her niceness, her feelings, she gave it to anyone who would? Even someone who would abuse it?  
"Don't." It came out as a growl, he could hear it.  
"Ok." She nodded, smile still fond but now anxious, she felt she had made him uncomfortable and it was quickly devouring her.  
"No not that . . . You can. . . . Let me just get the lights first." He stood and stared at the breaker box for a moment, he didn't want her electrocuting herself again.  
"Just flip em back. I blew them working on an outlet. I was rushing. I wanted to get most of my work done before you got here."  
"Hmm." He flipped the switches and after a brief delay they lights, and the distant sound of Cher returned. "Take your own advice. Don't rush." He stuck out a hand to help her to her feet. He started walking in the direction of his chair but was stopped.

"Geralt?"  
"Yes?"  
"You said don't . . .but didn't tell me what."  
"Hmm." He turned back around to her, cocking his head to the side, she was still so worried she had done something wrong. Just sitting there saying all the right things, listening so well, giving him platonic little moments of control that had been balming him, she still was convinced whole heartidly she had messed up. He had to fix that but the words to do so felt safer inside his chest. "If you . . . If I'm not right for you and you leave-" It had him feeling slightly queasy but discomfort was just that, he needed to get her even, calm, he could press forward. "Don't settle for. . ."  
"Vilge?" Yes he was the poster boy for not deserving of how nice she could be but he wasn't the only one who could hurt.  
"Don't settle. You deserve . . ." There wasn't much she thought she didn't deserve. "Pick someone who deserves how nice you are . . . That's all." He finished with a shrug.  
"You." She blinked a bit dramatically for a moment. "I already did, it's you Geralt. Simple." It was a big bold smile just for him.  
"Hmm." He wanted a better, or at least equal response for her, his whole face burrowed into something gravely serious as he dug for one. He was so focused on words that he didn't see the motion happen, didn't notice as her hands came around his waist, she hugged him tight, kissed him square in the chest.  
"You don't have to believe it if you don't want."  
"I want . . . I just-"  
"Let me believe it for a bit?"  
"Hmm." One had went to the small of her back, the other gripped a bit too firmly at the base of her neck. "You can. You can have that as long as you want Cordelia." As long as she wanted, as long as it lasted. "No rush." He kissed the top of her head.

Eventually they did make it back to the main room. Gearlt found his chair and Cordelia stood behind him. "Shoulders then?"  
"That's fine." Her hands were small, and soft and were quick to find their place. "You can press harder." Geralt's shoulders were broad and quite frankly a bit dense, delicate rolls and rubs while they felt good in thier own right would not get the desired effect she was after. "Harder." She was listening, applying more pressure than her last run over but she was . . . Apprehensive. "You won't hurt me Cordelia I promise."  
"Alright." It was cute really, he could feel her trying to put her weight into it, trying to penatrate the wall of muscle that he was. He let out a huff of mild amusement at the effort it took. "I'm trying! It's not my fault you're thick as concrete!" She laughed back.  
"I know." He let his eyes close, he let another, calmer breath out. "It feels good Cordelia." It genuinely did, once he got over the theatrics of how hard she had to work to actually work at them it did feel . . . Nice. He could feel days, weeks, months maybe years of weight on his shoulders begin to fall off.

"Ves' normally right." He eventually let out lazily.  
"Oh." She stopped for a second, she was getting anxious he knew it.  
"You didn't do anything wrong." He felt her resume but had lost some of the fluidity that was there.  
"But you think I'll . . . Want something? In return for being nice?"  
"No." She hadn't been there, when he and Vesemir had their conversation about his mother, she only had their breakfast conversation as a point of reference. "Be easier if I thought you did. Not right, but easier." It wasn't a fair or healthy existence to barter for feelings but Geralt could make more sense, feel he had more tangible control over having her niceness if there were requirements to achieve it, there wasn't, it was always just there for him.  
"Then what was he right about?"  
"Half right." The feel of her fingers was making words come out easier but also wasn't leaving much time for him to form Illuminating answers to her questions.  
"Half right about what?" She didn't seem annoyed by his lazy responses, even when he didn't answer her question. "Are your arms as tense as your shoulders?" She sounded so eager maybe even half pleased as she was doing so much for him, so well for him.  
"Arms, back, everything." Did he groan? Was Marx still behind the bar? Watching Cordelia just pamper him silly? It didn't matter, Geralt was not shy about his wants, and until he had it he had no way of knowing how much he wanted this.  
"Well I only have two hands. Where next?" She was following rules made to have him feel safe, relaxed, and yet was pressing at them hard enough not to stay in one place.  
"Hmm." He somewhat slumped forward giving her more access to him. He wanted her at his back but he was sure he'd be an illegible puddle once she got at it. "My arms."  
"OK." And her motions shifted, softly and slowly, his shoulders missed her but his arm welcomed the now less comically firm touch, she had found a rhythm that didn't take the wrenching of all her bodily force. "Half right?"  
"What?" Geralt was in a foggy state of relaxation. Is this what she felt like? When he had her? Was this safe and held?  
"Vesemir said-"  
"Hmm." Right they were talking, he was opening up. "I . . . My mother was . . . Even before she left . . .distant." He didn't realize how open he was getting till he said it but there was no going back.  
"I'm S-" she must've felt him tense and caught herself. "That must've been hard."  
"It wasn't hard." He shook his head. "Just how it was. She had . . . Other priorities. Couldn't juggle them and us." He went a hair further. "Couldn't take care of us." They could take care of themselves, each other, that wasn't the issue. "Couldn't love us."  
"She missed out on a good thing." He was expecting her to say something of a 'All mothers love their children. She just didn't show it.' Sort of reply but none came. She simply slid further down his arm till she was working each finger slowly and firmly at one point pausing to lace in her own.  
"She left." He wasn't one for repeating himself but here he was. "Ves thinks-"  
"Other arm ok?"  
"Yes." She was smart, distracting him with changing actions so he didn't focus too hard on the thoughts he was allowing out.  
"He thinks I will leave you like your mother did?" She sounded somewhat bitter, like she thought Vesemir to be cruel, feeding on Geralt's insecurities.  
"No." Geralt shook his head again, some of his hair was square in his face but he made no moves to adjust it, no moves at all. "He thinks . . . I . . . When I was young I was dumb . . . Not too dumb to not know things were wrong but . . . Dumb enough to think I could fix them. . . Fix her."  
"Oh." The picture was becoming clear. "He thinks you want to fix me because you couldn't fix _her_."  
"That if I fix you and convince you I can fix anything, I'll do anything, you'll stay. You'll love me."  
"Just like I told Vesemir . . . You can't fix me Geralt, I don't expect that from you."  
"I will fix . . . What they've done to you Cordelia. They've made you think you don't deserve . . . You deserve what makes you happy. I'll fix that. The anxiety . . . You're not broken Cordelia, you just think different. I don't want to fix how your mind works. I like . . .the way you think. Not when it makes you upset, but you're getting better at managing that . . . And when you need help I like to be able to calm you. But it's not always bad your deep thinking, you think about . . . Me, about who I am. It's what makes you . . . Makes you nice" His voice was sinking slowly, was becoming unraveled.  
"Geralt you-"  
"Half right." He remembered what had started this unwinding. "I don't think if I fix you, that you'll stay. I'm not dumb. But I do . . . My own mother didn't love me and left. What are the chances that when I can't accept your feelings, when I push at them . . . That you'll stay. You're too nice and I want every bit of it but . . . It will leave eventually and I'll. . . Miss it."  
"Arms are good. Back now?"  
"Yes." He said everything he was comfortable saying, if he turned into a mound of grunts and grumbles he was OK with that. He also was acutely aware of the rules of this game, she would move and then she would speak, while he didn't know what her response would be, he needed to hear it.

"There's another way to look at it you know?" She had chosen that sentence carefully, at no point did she say his concerns were wrong or invalid.  
"Hmm?" He groaned partially in appreciation for her care but mostly because some terrible awful knot that Geralt had never been able to address himself was being bled loose and it was painful in a gratifying way. "Fuck"  
"You think she left because she didn't love you. Yet you're worried I have feelings for you too close to love and because you're not lapping them up hand over fist I'll leave you. Those are not the same thing."  
"Hmm. But-" Not seeing stars but his vision was going a bit gray and static around the edges as if he had pressed his knuckles too hard into them. His whole body felt warm and it was taking all his focus.  
"If someone loves you, they stay with you. That's my understanding." It was stated so simple, sounded like an audible shrug.  
"Do you love me?" Geralt's chin was against the bar, he was a lovable log of a man in the moment. She was quiet, just continuing to press and pull at long sore muscles for a good while before speaking.  
"Not yet, but I've been told not to rush."  
"Hmm." That answer didn't sting the way it should have.  
"Sometimes how I feel for you doesn't sit right or . . . You just don't have a place for it yet. Just like how I think. . . You feel different and I'll work to fix any parts that have been broken by others but for the most part . . . I like how you feel. I like how you feel about me. I believe you once put it . . . I must really want you to put up with all of this bullshit."  
"I meant it . . . Better." Geralt was fairly certain he could fall asleep right against the bar. This chair had held him through hours and hours of miserable brooding but in the moment in was the most comfortable spot in the world.  
"No you didn't. You meant it just like that and I liked it just the way it was."  
"Hmm." He wasn't sure if it was the pleasant bodily haze or her words but no argument was bucking at his brain, he knew it was there, knew it would plague him again but not right now, he couldn't be anything other than relaxed.  
"Well my break is nearly over. So I am still listening Geralt I'm just listening and moving."  
"You're always listening." He gave a bit of an amuse scoff as he heard her walk away. "Sorry you wasted you break . . . Doing more hard work." He was sure her hands were tired.  
"I would gladly spend my break with my hands all over you. I don't get to do that often."  
"Hmm. You can when you want but you prefer when I take your hands away from you." Geralt turned his head finally, he wanted to see it, the blush in her cheeks.  
"You're not wrong." Her smile was a bit embarrassed but there was a soft undertone of appreciation for his flirtation.  
"Cordelia when are you _done_ work?" Geralt was slowly finding the will to move again, pulling out his phone to see the time.  
"Ha! Scedules are just a state of mind here." Marx hadn't said a god damn thing this whole time, this of all things got a response.  
"I'm glad my indentured servitude amuses you Marx. You're in the same boat!" Cordelia was glaring at another outlet.  
"Careful Cordelia." Geralt did sometimes legitimately worry about her working environment. _'How must she feel?'_ An outlet was nothing in comparrison to a drug lord.  
"Yes well from one on call and underapreciated till the end of time worker to another. I'll take my break now." Geralt wasn't sure he'd ever heard Marx talk so much but today was the day for it.  
"Marx you never go on break. . . Or you're always on break. Honestly I can't tell." Cordelia stopped glaring and her face turned confused. "Did we . . .make you uncomfortable?"  
"I work here thirteen hours a day six days a week Cordelia. Mommy issues and a firm back rub just means another Tuesday to me." Marx rolled his eyes.  
"Hmm." Geralt wasn't a huge fan of Marx's tone but the man had been . . . Amicable to them.  
"And you're right I don't take breaks so today I think I'll take a long one . . . Till about twoish. If someone wants a drink you can figure it out right?"  
"Are you expecting a lunch rush?" Geralt remembered the last time he had been here mid day.  
"No, that's why I'm confident Cordelia can handle it."  
"Love you too Marx. Enjoy your break."  
"Just to be clear . . . I will have no clue nor will I be responsible for what does and does not get done while I'm gone."  
"Your concern about this outlet is admirable Marx. I can handle it and the bar."  
"I'm not talking about the outlet Cordelia."  
"I am aware Marx. Enjoy your break."  
"Not half as much as you will." Marx jabbed back and was out the door.

"He . . . Left so we could have sex?" Geralt just wanted to be clear he was reading the room correctly.  
"I do it for him like three days a week, why do you think he's willing to work thirteen hour days? Till three it's more or less his personal toybox. He was returning the favor, we don't have to though. You look mighty comfortable."  
"You . . . If you leave and he's in the back fucking someone, who serves the drinks? How is this place a functioning businesses?" It just didn't make sense.  
"Functioning businesses . . . Very expensive play room for a handful of people with far too much money, acquired in ways I don't think too hard on, that happens to serve alcohol . . . Whose to say? I leave the books to the countess, she doesn't seem bothered by it so long as Marx and I keep it running. There is no lunch rush that I do know."  
"Hmm." He figured there was a lot to unpack in that story, but he wasn't in the mood for a story. "I am comfortable but it would seem a waste to just sit here and watch you fiddle with wires. You already proved you're good with your hands." He stood and stretched something wonderful.

"Agreed." She sounded nervous though.  
"I won't hurt you Cordelia . . . Did it . . . Were you here when it happened?" He walked over to her, taking her chin in his hand he stole her focus from that tricky outlet. He thought they were past this.  
"No." She still didn't elaborate, still didn't speak of that night unless it came out under duress. His hand went to her throat running his thumb up and down her pulse in a way that he knew her to find grounding.  
"Then why does that room bother you?"  
"The room itself doesn't bother me exactly . . . It's just not as safe as when we're at your house."  
"It is when I'm there. I promise." His muscles were still lax, but his face was stern and his hold at her throat pressed up a bit harder. "I will not let anyone hurt you Cordelia." It wasn't the room, it was people. In his house no one but Geralt was going to approach her, going to look at her, possibly judge her, no such inherent truth was behind those doors. "Plus like you said. No lunch rush right?" He leaned in and kissed her.  
"Right." She let him walk her straight up against the wall.  
"So I can have you just as I want you. All to myself." He kissed deeper. "I could have you right here on this table if I wanted to Cordelia." He watched that blush burn at her nerves.  
"Geralt I-" He could tell she was trying to think of some witty retort likely about having to clean those tables but he didn't want her thinking.  
"I don't even have something handy to keep you quiet with." He heard a soft whine of want in between kisses that were forcing her mouth wider to catch breath. "You had your hands all over me Cordelia. Don't you think I deserve a turn?" He was assertive, just as confident as he could be, his hand diving quick down the front of her pants. He knew if he kept talking and moving he could convince her she was safe to want, even here.  
"Yes."  
"Already so greedy for me Cordelia." He could feel her hips ride up to meet him. "You were good to me earlier Cordelia. Do you want me to return the favor?"  
"Yes." He wanted to give her something she was after, something he knew would get her to that focus floaty space before Marx returned. She had been nice, he could be gentle and giving. He could have her safe and held. "There is one thing that the other room has that this one doesn't."  
"Forgiving flooring?" So she still had her wits about her, and was still thinking of his wants, low and to the floor. He removed his hand placing each one at a hip, pushing with a slight force, holding her firmly in place.  
"Rope." Short of home depot he couldn't think of a place that just had spools of rope just . . . Exsisting, but there had always just been rope around. He had already been told not to think too hard on what exactly this establishment was. He had beeter places for his attention. As firm as he held her he felt it, grinned over it, she couldn't help from arching herself towards him at the suggestion.  
"I thought-" She remembered him telling her they had to wait, he had to make sure she was safe first.  
"Not your hands. Not yet, but I can put you just where I want you and keep you there. You won't move your hands unless you have to understand?"  
"Yes." She was in all ways eager. Perhaps this could have been viewed as bribery to help her get over the phobia of the room but Geralt while a patient man was not a Saint, he was a patient man with a time constraint, in short he was not above bribery.  
"You'll be good Cordelia?" One hand drifted from her hip, palming up her body till it found purchase in her hair.  
"I'll be good Geralt."

It wasn't something he fuly grasped. He'd like to, he was trying to, but it really did bring focus in a more confident way to her. Even simple knots, ones that didn't restrict her movements much if any more than Geralt himself, seemed to settle her. It was direct, there was some but not much foreplay, even less teasing, something Geralt had grown an aquired taste for but it was good for what it was. He was showing her he would have her the same here as he would at home, she would be safe and held and his. He still was able to have what he wanted, control, there was no doubt as she followed and folded under his movements that her focus, this moment was held solely by him.

 _'Home's better.'_ Geralt decided emphatically, when it was said and done. This had been good but he oddly prefered the back and forth, the fight for it that home allowed for. She had focused under the ropes, but a battle won bribed was a hollow one. They had scratched their itches but he now wanted more of what he had been allowed prior. Even the night at the countess' had felt more genuine. _'Shit.'_ There was another thing he hadn't thought of. Untied and simply lying out looking at the ceiling Cordelia had none of the comforts of her home or his and while it had ropes for days he doubted the bar was flush with blankets. "Cordelia are you alright?"  
"Yes." She didn't sound upset which was good, she sounded just . . . Fine. Maybe she'd prefered this, maybe ropes really were all she needed not to get lost in guilty thought afterwards. "Geralt?"  
"Yes?" He pulled her over him, he needed a blanket of sorts as he digested all this information. "Did you like this? Did you have fun?" It was probably written all over his stupid melancholy face.  
 _'Fuck.'_ He thought for a moment. "I liked it." It's not that he didn't enjoy himself. He pondered a little longer. This was not the time or place to lie to be nice. "I liked that you were sure of yourself but . . . I . . . It was different over the weekend." He let his fingers hook in and fiddle with the little band of yellow round her wrist. "You seem . . . To like . . . It takes less out of you. I want what's best for you Cordelia."  
"Less draining." Cordelia nodded. "Is it bad that I preferred the . . . I don't love the word draining . . . I know I'm less fun afterwards but-" She was rambling which was different.  
"We'll work on that. I don't like that you feel like shit afterwards, but I do prefer how . . . I felt like I had more of you the other times."  
"We'll have to test our theroy once I'm allowed back in your house."  
"Hmm." An alarm on someone's phone was going off, it was time to get dressed.

"Which will be when? Do you think?"  
"Couple of weeks." He didn't want to take any chances, he had driven out of his way to get to the bar on some of chance paranoid delusion he could've been followed. The nightmare had jabbed at more than one of his concerns.  
"Oh." It clearly wasn't the answer she was after. "Are you allowed to come over my house?"  
"Not for this I can't. Even if you could clear that hen house of yours for a day Jarre would be glaring from the lawn."  
"Not for this. Just . . . Nevermind." Her whole body went rigid and tense and maybe even a bit annoyed.  
 _'Fuck.'_ Last thing he needed was for her to start thinking he was only in this for sex. Though it really should go without saying, sex no matter how good was not worth all the hoops they were both jumping through. "Not every night . . . The whole point is so no one who might want to hurt me . . . Knows who you are. But if you clear a drawer for me, I can once in a while. Just warn Jarre first. I don't want him dying of a heart attack if he sees me at the breakfast table."  
"We'll have the breakfast table to ourselves Geralt, no one greets the sun as early as your family at hotel Nenne, we're a different breed of family you'll see."  
 _'Fuck.'_ He was not a person families warmed to and now he had to charm however many women currently could fit in that house? Say that goal was achievable, there was still and always would be Jarre.


	16. twenty questions

"Tonight?" Geralt could see Cordelia staring down at a drink she shouldn't have ordered, she had done so purely to elongate the night.  
"Huh?"  
"Did you want me to stay over tonight?" He watched her face contort oddly at the question. She had asked him to stay over right? It had only been a few days but she had missed splaying over him as much as he had missed having her comfortable weight and warmth at his chest. This didn't look like anxiety but he went with what worked when questions stumped her. "Yes or No Cordelia?"  
"Yes I want you to but . . ." She was lost again, it had been a while since casual conversation got over run with possibilities.  
"But?" He wasn't expecting that, she wanted it and had gone as far to ask for it but she was back tracking. Why?  
"Couple reasons tonight's not good. Maybe-"  
"Like what?" Plans change, he was not immovable but he was . . .curious.  
"For one Kayte has a test tomorrow. She's likely up studying for."  
"So?" He didn't know who Kayte was and didn't understand what him coming over had to do with her test but as quick as the word came out he followed with a slightly more considerate sentence. "I'm going over to sleep not distract." He heard her let out a sigh, deeper because she was drunk but even sober it would have seemed over the top. "You don't believe that?"  
"You wouldn't intend to but . . . You will be. Everyone will ogle at you like some oddity." Geralt didn't understand, he'd been in that house a few times now, been up to her room with few ruffled feathers, nothing terribly dramatic. What would make this any different?  
"Am I . . . Odd?" He needed a bit more context.  
"No. No. You're wonderful. I'm . . ." Cordelia paused for an ugly snort to come from Iola.  
"Yes I know."  
"What?" Geralt was getting annoyed that there seemed to be an obvious bit of information being withheld from him.  
"I don't bring men home often." This got another snort.  
"I've been there before. Do they not know we're together?" It didn't matter much but if she was hiding their relationship he was sure she had a reason and he had to know what it was.  
"They do . . . But I've never brought you there." So there was the difference but it was . . . Semantics more or less, just a more official introduction what were the glances shared between Cordelia and Iola all about?  
"Cordelia out with it." Social nuance was not something he was well versed in nor did he care to be.  
"They will have questions . . . For you . . . For us. They will pester, they will badger, they will be ruthless." Cordelia wasn't smiling, her face was apologizing. "You won't like it. Let me talk to them first."  
"Hmm." She was always thoughtful of his wants and needs. Was she trying to protect her from her housemates? Did she think he'd shy away from some scrutiny? She had let his brother taunt her, let his uncle lecture her. Did she not think he'd allow her the same. "Worse than Jarre?" And she seemed to ponder on that a second, like she didn't know the answer to the question. Perhaps it wasn't a yes or no more a matter of taste and she was trying to decide on his off the cuff.  
"Different. They don't all know me like Jarre. It will be more morbid curiosity not . . . Concern. You tolerate Jarre because you know he comes from a place of care. And they . . . Care they do, just . . . They're catty children." That's what all the dodging had been about, she had been trying to find a nicer way to describe them but could delay no longer. "Not bad people just . . . Your family is close, guarded, predictable for better or for worse. Mine is loose and . . . Fluid? It's chaos."  
"Cats can be as such." Geralt was trying to understand but it still seemed vague so he went with a vague acknowledgment. "But you asked for me to come over . . . So you intend to what . . . Have me barge in? Sneak? What?" His arms folded over his chest. He wanted to stay over more now, partially out of pure protest at this point.

"Wait for the weekend? So I can properly introduce you? Let me try to . . . Calm the clowder"  
"It sounds like what you need is a distraction from the festivities." Jaskier had been watching, waiting, he practically pounced on the pause, both his palms splaid wide across their table so as to force all attention his way. "I will gladly-" This got the loudest snort from Iola yet, this one punctuated with an eye roll. "You doubt my ability to distract the attention of curious young women?"  
"No one doubts that Jaskier. So much so that you are not allowed in that house and you know it." Cordelia corrected.  
"Allowed is such a strong, drab word, where's the fun in being allowed?"  
"Nenne will kill you if you step foot in that house. How fun is that?"  
"What did you do that was so awful Jaskier?" Geralt had more than an idea of what the theme was to his trespass against Cordelia's home but he always saw Jaskier's dalliances as, while in bad taste, not callous. He wasn't mean or even rough like Geralt could be, he was soft and . . . Romantic even. Though he also hazily remembered Nenne kicking Jaskier into the dirt, resentment like that doesn't come from nowhere.  
"It's not what it's who." Then Cordelia shook her head, that wasn't clarifying enough. "Or who didn't he do."  
"I may have gotten too comfortable in those waters. But can you blame me? Just a sea of beautiful women as far as they eye could see."  
"And did you care for any of these beauties? Or were they each just a drop in the ocean?" Geralt was perhaps seeing the beginings of the problem here.  
"Very much so. I do not just rut into holes Geralt. I am not an animal." Geralt's nose crinkled as his friend's eyes lingered on him a bit too long for his liking. Though there was some merit to the side glance. Before Cordelia care was not something he bothered to consider when it came to sex, he wouldn't go as far as to say he was rutting into holes, it was deeper than that but it wasn't emotional connections, it was shallow, just enough for him to scratch at his itches.  
"He cared too much . . . To frequently sometimes juggling 'care' for two or three at a time." Cordelia illuminated.  
"Hmm." So that was the issue. Geralt had varying partners but none of them felt special, he didn't make them feel special. Jaskier's romantics did that, could be brutal in it's own way, if they read into romance less liberaly than the man himself. "You had more than one . . . One and only. The henhouse had a fox."  
"I . . . Am adoring to a fault." Jaskier did sigh a bit forlorn at that, he knew he could go past a tease and into something a bit less light.  
"It was nearly a blood bath. Forget hens and foxes . . . These were women willing to fight each other for . . . Love that wasn't there."  
"I did love each of them!" Jaskier protested.  
"Tell me their names Jaskier." Geralt paused, had half a frown half a smirk. He had faith where Cordelia was lacking.  
"Myra, Pru, Deborah . . .Iola." Jaskier would not stand to be painted a womanizer full stop, he did love too liberaly, but he did not forget a name or face, or any body part bellow that.  
"Hmm." So there was the opposite side of the spectrum, Geralt had difficulties adjusting and expressing feelings that went past fond and Jaskier had it ebbing out his very pores. He did not doubt Jaskier's sincerity, Geralt was sure he'd looked every single one of those women in the eyes and explained what he loved about them. Jaskier could love in parts, in motion, he could share his love. Now the fact that bothered the recipients was the crux of most of Jaskier's woes but his outlook on love wasn't inherintly bad, just different, an acquired taste. "I don't need Jaskier to . . . Distract." Geralt did not share his emotions evenly among the masses, and he was more than fond of Cordelia, he could show her that without aid, there was no need to complicate things. He could stand on his own two feet, it was something he prided himself on. He truly believed Cordelia was just over thinking it or under estimating his resolve either way he could prove her wrong. Than he saw it, something that slowed his charge. Her face while appreciative and nice as always, held doubt.

That struck but also checked his ego, she always wanted him as is never more never less, perhaps she worried her house mates would not be as accepting, demanding a dog and pony show out of him, that was something he had to admit was not in his wheelhouse. "I can take badgering." Geralts eyes held on Jaskier for effect. "If it is entertainment they're after . . . Perhaps having Jaskier there would help." He grumbled, only half conceding.  
"I will upsell you like you've never been upsold before!"  
"Don't. You can use your ten dollar words just don't . . . Tell them I'm something I'm not."  
"I won't. I never do. I'll just paint you in the light you deserve not the biting gray bore you allow people to see you as."  
"How people see me is not my concern . . . Often." It was his concern now, it mattered now. Cordelia had taken the time to really know him, if he didn't try to show at least some of the better parts of him to those around her, perhaps it could lead to contention, if bad enough doubts. He didn't want doubts.

"Jaskier it's great that you want to help Geralt out but-"  
"I am a great friend."  
"Can you be a selfless friend? For a few hours?" Cordelia was still unconvinced.  
"Huh?"  
"You cannot flirt . . . Cannot sleep with . . . Cannot undress with your eyes or teeth anyone in that house. Nenne will kill you!" Cordelia was trying to leave no room for loop holes in her threat.  
"I can keep it in my pants for an afternoon." Jaskier nodded.  
"Can you? I don't want you vomiting blood because you're surrounded by women who could suck your cock but aren't." Geralt exagerated but not to be nasty to almost be considerate. He didn't want Jaskier to feel ashamed or uncomfortable in who he was and who he was . . .well he was an insufferable flirt, who doubled down on his double entandras at any opportunity.  
"For you anything Geralt." Jaskier was always coy and aloof but there was a pause as it appeared he was having a debate of conscious, actually examining if he had enough willpower to spread between both heads. "Best behavior I swear . . .but!"  
"But?" These catalysts were catching Geralt off guard.  
"In return it's back on the table."  
"What?"  
"I swore I'd never invite you anywhere after the pool party and I haven't. I wish to have my wing man back."  
"You mean your body guard?"  
"I mean my friend."  
"Hmm." The man did have a way with buttering people up. "You can . . . Invite me places. It does not mean I will go."  
"Sure it doesn't." Jaskier beemed ear to ear.  
 _'I can't play hard to get.'_ Geralt knew with Jaskier's boundless and annoying persistence he had just agreed to a handful of things he didn't want to do at places he didn't want to be but it bothered Geralt less than his scowl showed. "Fine."

Wednesday and Thursday went by without note, though Geralt was begining to give Vesemir's complaint about a draft credence, his room had felt colder as the days past. Friday was the last night he'd have to part ways with Cordelia at the bar, but Geralt had bad luck and two days of normalcy had been pushing it.

Geralt had been grabbing a drink, when he turned around it was to a interaction with a lot to unpack. Cordelia was tense as anything but it wasn't Vilge who had snuck by Geralt's gaze to set her uneven it was Sura. "Hmm." Geralt prepared himself for a headache as he approached the table.  
"There's the man of the hour."  
"Cordelia you're fine. Just breathe, whatever it is-" Geralt knew being compared to others fed into her anxiety and she had watched Geralt have sex with Sura, he knew she was dangling herself off a ledge somewhere.  
"Geralt I haven't seen you in the other room all week."  
"Haven't been there." He didn't exactly want to be rude, so much as imply he didn't have much attention to spare for her in the moment.  
"I'm fine." It was a pained smile curling onto Cordelia's face, he had seen worse he had seen better.  
"I know. You're hard to miss. I get it you two are a couple. It's so adorable it's dumb." Sura was always sweetly rude, Geralt understood that, it didn't bother him.  
"We are." He was trying to think of a polite way to ask her to leave, casual dismissal was nothing but a challenge to Sura.  
"Doesn't mean we can't have fun."  
"It does." He had explicitly stated that sharing was something he was not a fan of, and exclusivity worked best when it was mutual.  
"Oh come now Cordelia don't be so greedy. There's no reason the three of us can't have fun, no strings attached I don't _want_ him, just like to _borrow_ him. . . Share him, I wouldn't mind sharing you as well. What if i make it worth your while? I am fun I assure you." Sura knew what she wanted knew how to get it, she hadn't changed. Geralt could picture it, the three of them in a scene. It wasn't an unpleasant image nor something he couldn't find a place for Cordelia's wants if he really cared for fantasy but any itch it stirred in him was far out weighed by the image in front of him. The itch to have Cordelia's trust and focus on him without any slouched sad understanding or eyes pulled away by doubt, that was took precedence always. To have her remain welcoming and accepting of him, calm in his presence was a deeper more satisfying feeling, something that itched not at his skin but his bones and blood, there was no comparison.  
"I. . . " Cordelia's mind was likely static, just white noise and possibilities and . . . Loud.  
"Sura back off." Geralt warned, he could hear Cordelia's ears ringing at the word greedy, conflicted by how it made her feel.  
"He could fuck my tongue right into you. Wouldn't that be fun?" Sura was not shy, not even a little. Geralt let out a surprised cough, grumbling as he forced hot blood cool.  
"Sura."  
"Not . . . Tonight. Please. . . Er thank you" Cordelia didn't quite stutter out a sentence but it stumbled clunking past her teeth, with a big cringe to match the impact. "Maybe some other time . . . Thank you for offering." That smile was ebbing from one side of her face to the other like she was fighting desperately to keep it there.  
"I'm just-"  
"You're wasting your breath Sura, when you could be wasting your time on things that please you."  
"I-"  
"Leave. Now." He had to growl, calm really didn't work on anyone but Cordelia.  
"You sound so fun even saying No Geralt, love seeing you riled. I'll wait but don't make me wait long." Sura liked him in one state, snarling, that was fine but not fulfilling.

"I'm not . . . Cordelia what are you feeling right now?" Her cheeks was in her palms, her head . . . Somewhere.  
"Bad." She sighed, but her smile up at him was less fleeing and more fond.  
"I can see that. Why? Do you think-"  
"If you were with someone who . . . Wasn't me would you have said no to that? You wouldn't have would you? You'd . . . It excited you." She had seen it, just the brief linger on the thought. She didn't just listen, she saw him. It wasn't panic that Geralt would leave her for surana, she had overcome that particular concern, it was that she was keeping him from something that would make him happy.  
"That's a stupid question." Geralt didn't pause for better words, there weren't better words. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, just resting his head atop hers for a moment. "I am not with anyone else."  
"But-"  
"I am not one for quantity Cordelia. I do not need much attention, just what I have to be of quality. When you let me . . . You trust me to have control in ways others don't." His hand rode up to her neck, but didn't press, just held, calm, gentle, controlled. "Your focus is more than enough."  
"I saw . . ."  
"Let me tell you what you saw."  
"Huh?"  
"I am only a man, I won't pretend that what she said was in no way exciting to me. It was exciting, and more so because of you not despite you." Adjusting his face he could see confusion all over her.  
"The most exciting part was how I could keep your focus, how I could get those open whines out of you with someone inbetween" He could see her cheeks flush and it would be easy to ask, easy to reach out and take. "But I don't want it. Or else I would have said so." He knew his wants and voiced them, they both knew that to be fact. "If I can't have all of your focus, and in that situation I wouldn't . . . If I can't be in control of that moment and get you to where you feel hazy and held, I don't want it. I said before I am not sted fast opposed to sharing bodies . . . Your focus is something I want for myself." He almost sounded soothing but there was a dark undertone laced in there, something that threatened to swallow her. "It's mine." He could feel her squirm in the right way and to let off some of the steam at his skin he sunk his teeth into hers, biting a twinge towards pain into her shoulder.  
"I didn't say . . . No." She leaned the back of her head harder into his chest, he wasn't sure if it was to hide or to cuddle, he knew it was for comfort in contact. It always astounded him she could find that there, he was always eager to show he could.  
"I heard." He held her throat a bit tighter. "I also heard your anxiety Cordelia. Your worry you are not enough. How much of that not no was real?" This was always something he had to be acutely aware of. It was a kind notion that she would offer and allow him most anything but she trusted him not to, trusted him to have control, that he would take her wants and comforts into consideration. "I don't ask questions I don't want answers to Cordelia." His free arm was around her waist, pinning her tight to him.  
"I . . . It was real." Cordelia knew that Geralt's trust in her while equally there was under scrutiny, that she wasn't one to know her wants and voice them so he had to pick and pry at every exposed bit. "Just . . . Like I said not tonight."  
"Not tonight." He assured her.  
"Maybe a trade?"  
"Bartering is not a reliable way to get what you want. You ask Cordelia and-" How many times and ways did he have to say it? He let out a bit of a sigh as he resigned himself to as many as it took.  
"Maybe when I'm ready and you trust me with something I like more than you do . . . We can try what you'd like but I don't feel confident about." Ok so there was a slight variance here, this was about something she had more or less asked for that he had put the breaks on.  
"They're not the same." Geralt shook his head. "Just now was . . . a dirty thought . . . Not even my thought. What you want is-" A passing offering was not in anyway the same as the tangible manifestation of what was her core itch. "You've been doing well Cordelia I will give you what you want soon, you'll be good for me again won't you?"

"I want to be good for you Geralt." He could hear focus burying her worry. "What I want is you, simple." The word that had become synonymous with him straightened out any crookedness left in her smile. "You make me feel safe and held . . . Not some ropes, they've been there. If they alone made me happy you'd have met me tickled pink. Anyone can tie a knot Geralt I don't want anyone." He was glad she didn't debate with him often, when she did she always struck at a point that left him dazed and immobile, warm but ineffective at mounting a offense, but she was also nice to a fault.  
"Told you it was a stupid question." He let the hypocrisy of her words sink in through her skull, even when she pushed against him, she worked to ease with him. "I'm not with someone else. Other people have been around do you ever recall seeing me tickled pink?"  
"Pink? No . . . Not even with me have you ever been pink . . .Carnation at best."  
"Hmm." They didn't go to the public room but snuck to the private one meant for couples. He had her, controlled her, it was just him and her focus, stuck firmly beneath him. It was a step towards a new normal, to them truely being an out an open, confident couple.

"She'll appreciate it." Jaskier had not grown used to or tolerant of silent car rides.  
"What's that?" Geralt was trying to prepare himself for his hums of acknowledgment to not be enough.  
"You wore a different shirt."  
"Hmm" But old habits died hard.  
"Thank you for noticing Jaskier. I was worried that a gray shirt would be too bold so I staid with black but I appreciate that . . Well thats not a good sign." Outside of Cordelia's home was Nenne already looking cross, and her folded arms only clutched harder when the two men exited the car.

"You!" She pointed her finger right in Jaskier's nose.  
"Me?"  
"He is your responsibility." That finger swivled to Geralt. "Any damage he causes emotional, structural or otherwise I'm holding you responsible."  
"Fine." Geralt craned his head to peer past Neene. "Is she not home?" Geralt was a bit surprised Cordelia hadn't come out to greet them, or at the very least come to save them from Nenne's jabbing.  
"They're watching a pot boil. I will teach her and Jarre basic life skills if it kills them. They cannot live on oreos, red bull and hot pockets. Less so if Cordelia intends on . . . Geralt?" Nenne's tone was still that of a pointed mother hen but her face went from angry to somber as her train of thought veered abruptly.  
"Yes?"  
"Is there something you are hiding?"  
"No." Geralt didn't hide, better or worse he was exactly who he was.  
"Now is the time to say it if there is. Don't even have to say what it is . . . Just go. We'll take care of her." Nenne was trying to sound diplomatic but it came off as acusitory.  
"Drove all the way here. Not going anywhere." Did she think after everything he'd just turn and run? Their stare grew long. What exactly did she think he was hiding?  
"Nenne don't feed into Jarre's slander. You know as well as the rest of us-" Jaskier started.  
"It's what Geralt said not Jarre that has me worried."  
"And what did I say?" Geralt was frowning, were his words being twisted against him again? Already? It was this difficult just to get into the home what ordeal laid inside? Whatever words Nenne was trying to form seemed to taste awfully unpleasant.  
"From the outside you seem good for her . . . But all men seem good at a distance." She only let her eyes drift to Jaskier for a moment. "She can't come over your home because it's unsafe? But you can go to the bar, see her here. Is there . . . Is there someone else Geralt? That's what I'm asking. Is that why she can't come over. She trusts you Geralt don't be an asshole about it."  
"Nenne I-" she thought him a liar, and that had him bothered. He didn't lie, not to be mean and not to be nice.  
"I know that partners can be come and go but we both know Cordelia well enough that she . . . Again you don't have to tell me. I'm not going to judge you-"  
"Oh Geralt can have his fingers in multiple pies and he gets a get out of jail free card?" Jaskier saw this as a bit more than unfair.  
"You were greedy. Geralt might just be in over his head, trying to spare the girl who feels everything a bit of her feelings. That is a nobel goal but . . . Rip off the band aid Geralt."  
"If I could have her at my home I would. When its safe I will. I like my own bed best. She likes it." It wasn't meant as a gloat, more to just remind himself of the fact, to let himself cool his anger and reminisce on Cordelia's fondness. "I am choosing the lesser evil. I want her safe but I also want her close . . . So I'm here." Geralt made no pretense that this was his ideal. "Can we come in Nenne?" He was tired of waiting, he didn't want to reminisce and remind, he wanted to have Cordelia near him. She was close and the tease of her presense had him feeling off.  
"I tried." Nenne turned and entered the home. "Tried to give you an out." There was no welcome but she didn't slam the door in their face.  
"There is nothing I'm hiding Nenne."  
"You will. . . .never mind you're adults. Make your own damn choices. Do not make a mess of my home." Home was what she said, family was what she meant.  
"Hmm." Geralt wasn't going to repeat himself.

When he walked in there was no Cordelia, there was as he estimated a horde of a dozen plus women just waiting for them. "So you're Geralt." It was starting right there in the doorway.  
"I am."  
"And you're dating Cordelia?" She sounded skeptical.  
"I. . ." Dating was in the same vein as boyfriend, sounded trivial and childish but there wasn't another way to put it. "Yes."  
"How . . . Old are you?" His head had to turn, someone else was speaking.  
"What does that matter?"  
"White hair. Older than Cordelia. It's not a big deal just wonder if she calls you daddy?"  
"She . . .No" Geralt was again, looking, searching for Cordelia's ease, instead of what was becoming a berage. The word daddy made his skin crawl but even in discomfort there was no rest.  
"Can I see your teeth?" If he had a second he'd pawn these people off on Jaskier and go searching for Cordelia, but no second came.  
"My what?" His tongue ran from one canine to the other almost instinctualy.  
"I've heard you have some mean teeth. Nenne calls you a vampire doesn't she?"  
"Better than what Jarre calls him." Another chimed. "And he's not worried about his teeth."  
"But what does Cordelia call him?" Jaskier finally butted in, standing as a wall between Geralt and the masses. "Isn't that what matters?"  
"She doesn't call him anything." The nameless woman seemed bored with the response to that question. "Just gets all stupid and girly in the face when he's mentioned."  
 _'Fond.'_ Geralt liked the way he described the face he knew her to be describing better.  
"Geralt?" A third? Or a fourth? What number woman were they on?  
"What?" He was getting rude, not rude so much as impatient. Where the hell was she?  
"You got a job right?"  
"Yes." He just had to answer as quick as he could. These weren't deep introspective questions, they were just piling up.  
"Yeah a dangerous one. Do you have a gun? Are we in danger? Cordelia your eyes being bigger than your mouth for cock is going to get us killed!" These teases were nothing, just volume, just words, but they were coming in relentlessly, they weren't loud like his brothers, or a danger to his relationship like Jarre's they were just . . .endless.  
"I won't let-"  
"Just don't let it boil over Jarre it can't be simpler! They will eat him alive!" Cordelia's voice, finally, coming from the kitchen he assumed.  
"There's enough of him to go around. Let them nibble there'll still be some left for you." Jarre was teasing but in a way that sounded more . . . Friendly, Geralt never thought he'd find Jarre's voice a comfort.

"Geralt!" She was finally there, finally he had someone who'd let him catch his breath. She didn't charge at him, it was a sped walk though, not next to him into him, right against his chest. "Sorry Jarre and I were making dinner and-"  
"Stay here. I'd rather starve." He could go without food, he needed air, he needed her to ward off these . . . They weren't catty children they were cackling hyenas.  
"Fair." She leaned up to kiss him and that was a welcomed little gift, normally he had to reach out to her, she was offering it, knew he need it.  
"Cordelia, I don't know what you did or have to do to keep a man who is both fine and financed but whatever it is keep doing that." The girl had a cheeky grin but Geralt was concerned at the wording of that statement.  
"Don't say that." Geralt looked down at Cordelia, glad to see that she wasn't squirming, wasn't twisting the words in her ears to mean do anything, be anything.  
"Oh I'm saying it. If she won't someone will. I might." It was light and jovial but skirting dangerously close to each one of Cordelia's anxieties. "I'm not into all those games you play in the sheets but I'd be willing to try anything once." Geralt was now getting what Cordelia meant, these women knew of them, knew and liked Cordelia well enough, but not really, not to know how those words could feed into bad habits he'd been fighting since the beginning.  
"I'm fine Geralt. This . . . I am used to." She did seem . . . Fine. It only tugged at him slightly that she wasn't more than fine, it was beyond his control why they had to wade in these waters, so he accepted it and tried to overlook the fact that someone other than them had any margin of control over their relationship.

"Cordelia! Its boiling!" Jarre shouted in true distress.  
"Then turn it down! It's an oven Jarre it's more afraid of you than you are of it!" She staid with Geralt even though her body twisted to help her less than domestically inclined friend.  
"You two don't make dinner often do you?"  
"No. What's the point?" Cordelia really could live off of oreos and red bull left to her own devices.  
"Cordelia what next?!" Jarre was panicking, floundering.  
"Read the box Jarre. It's-"  
"What fucking box? Was there a box? When? This is so fucking complicated!"  
"Go." Geralt felt maybe someone needed Cordelia's ease just a bit more than him, he could share for Jarre's sanity, he could back track on his wants just this once. "Just. . . Come back."

Luckily Jaskier finally was doing what he did best, distract and inchant, just keeping most of the women that seemed to be coming and going in shifts entertained, with answers and stories, at a certain point what sounded like a limerick about Geralt. It had the man standing there under passing gawks and glares wondering if Jaskier had prepared cliff notes. Though the questions didn't vary much, it was all to the tune of why did Geralt look so out of place here, or anywhere for that matter and how did a wolf and a sheep pair up in anyway right. Geralt was glad he only had to answer a hand full of questions because at a certain point they all just became a buzz of repeatitive white noise and he just got lost in some off meditative state till it passed.

"We could have had hot pockets. Saved Jarre an aneurysm." Geralt couldn't tell if the poor man had actually worked up a sweat or if he had leaned in so far over the pot that condensation had collected on him.  
"It's rude to have company over and not prepare dinner." Nenne seemed almost offended by the accusation. She reminded him of Ves in a half cocked kind of way. Someone with a view and understanding of the world that was good as an anchor, and gave off a sense of home but in someways had not kept up with the times. For this dinner was stilted, seven or so people awkwardly sitting with nothing to talk about as the tornado of ever moving women bustled around them. It didn't bother Geralt any, he didn't mind eating in silence but the rest of the table looked . . . Uncomfortable.

"Is this what the bar is like?" Jarre glanced first to Iola who shrugged, then to Cordelia.  
"The bar has alcohol." Cordelia pointed out.  
"And sex." Jaskier added. Nenne stood and even Geralt looked up from his plate waiting for her to pull Jaskier out of the house by his ear, instead she disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of cheap rum, it got a handful if surprised looks.  
"I'm a nudge not a nun you can have one of the two." She poured herself a full glass of the stuff.  
"That's vial. Cordelia Iola do you want yours? Geralt? Jaskier what do you drink?" Jarre might have hated cooking but he seemed all too eager to play bartender.  
"If mines there." Cordelia did not sound confident. Geralt was about to notice how much of a running theme that would be.

Drinking helped, which made sense, while Geralt's family was predictable and firm, only jostled loose by determination or outright threats that wasn't the case with Cordelia's family, they were fluid and varying and . . . Alcohol leveled the playing field. The table because immeasurably more crowded and loud at the introduction of booze. Geralt wasn't a particular fan of the added noise but between Jaskier's story telling and Cordelia's fond smile when he did bother to acknowledge a question or her quick  
"Heathens. . . I'll say it again. Let the man eat in peace." She had to repeat four or five times, it wasn't unbearable, the chaos was almost nice.

"Cordelia two things." There were apparently more, just a never ending cavalcade of these people. "One I'm borrowing your shirt."  
"I see that Kayte." Cordelia nodded, at which point the woman looked down confused.  
"This isn't yours."  
"It was."  
"Are you sure?"  
"I am."  
"I meant the blue one."  
"Sure." Her alcohol, her clothes, Cordelia was not nearly as possessive over her things as Geralt was. He couldn't have nice things but she couldn't keep them. He wasnt sure which was worse. "What else Kayte?"  
"Oh I think your . . .wait who the fuck is this."  
"Geralt and Jaskier. You didn't get the newsletter?"  
"Geralt. That's the boyfriend right?"  
"I am." Nice chaos only carried so far, if he had to repeat an answer one more time he'd go mad, it was clear by the annoyance in his voice. If he thought slamming his head into the wall and repeating it over and over would vary the results he would have but that didn't seem likely, or polite.  
"Are you trying to kill yourself?"  
"Kayte!" Cordelia stood, she skipped right past annoyed and seemed angry which always held odd on her face.  
"Cordelia it's fine." He was numb to the questions now, these women were purely white noise.  
"He's not that bad." Jarre gave a shrug.  
"Ha!" Jaskier was grinning victorious as if it was his persistence alone that had swayed Jarre's opinion.  
"Don't get carried away I still don't like him. Just . . . He probably won't kill her."  
"I don't know the last one was smaller and less cranky and look how that ended."  
"I know Kayte but don't let-" Jarre was half way through another shrug.  
"And if he's the new one-"  
"Can you please stop calling him the new one like he's another shirt for you to borrow."  
"Vilge?" It finally dawned on Geralt what they casually glossed over. "He was . . ." For some reason he never put thought to the fact that Vilge and Cordelia's relationship had gone any further than sexual partners. Granted normally when he saw Vilge he was far too busy reminding Cordelia to breath and reminding himself that punching Vilge in the face would solve nothing, so there had not been much extra room for thought.  
"He seemed fine from a distance too Geralt." Nenne noted from behind another sip of rum. Jarre being unswayed by Geralt's honest attempts now made more sense, Vilge had been just as close and perhaps Jarre feared having the wool pulled over his eyes twice in a row.  
"Hmm." Geralt wasn't sure what to say here. He had told anyone who would listen he wasn't Vilge, wasn't like him. What would saying it one more time do? He had proven it to Cordelia and that's what mattered most but what words did he have at his disposal to assure her friends that he was genuine, he was careful, he was controlled.

"Vilge and I were a bad match and even I didn't know that till . . . I don't like being alone." To Geralt all this bustle and noise was unbearable, to her maybe it was safe, no one was ever really alone here. "I . . . Fit better with Geralt. I can . . . Calm my head sometimes. Really think and be almost normal." It was a dry chuckle. "I know saying that doesn't mean much, my word doesn't mean much but . . . I'll show you that . . . This is different." Cordelia had spoken through the white noise, Nenne seemed to have heard her. Geralt didn't know what it was like to be so out of sorts with one's self that even your family can't trust your motives. His family questioned him, but it was never if he knew what he wanted, if he should have it, only why and at what cost was he getting it.  
"Alright. You're adults make your own decisions, just . . . Don't be assholes to each other." Nenne did not have a lot of fuss about her, she didn't take sides, she just couldn't tolerate assholes.

"So unrelated I guess but some weirdo was circling the block. Thought it was Cordelia's weirdo guess not. Nenne I'd call your boyfriend. I'm out!" Kayte appeared just to stir the pot, and was leaving just as soon as she came.  
"Who are you with now a days Nenne?" Jaskier was drunk and making eyes he really shouldn't at her.  
"Cordelia I should go." Geralt was trying to squint out the window, to see if any vehicle was scoping out the place. "Nenne please let Jaskier stay the night. Cordelia and Iola will keep an eye on-"  
"You should sit right there you nobel oaf." Nenne was still no fluff, no nonsense, and just a little bit drunk. "I'm going to call Cranmer he'll check it out and-"  
"Whose Cranmer? You know what forget Cranmer." Jaskier chuckled at a joke he didn't make.  
"Cranmer's Nenne's lover." Jarre teased.  
"This isn't a joke." Geralt bolted upright, this table of drunks were not taking this seriously. He walked to the edge of the window, kicking Jaskier's chair to move him from the exposed spot. What if they had been followed by someone under Radovoid's payroll? He thought he had been careful but he had been careful and still caught off guard before.  
"Cranmer's also the police Geralt. They came here so much Nenne and him have worked up a . . . Frienship." Cordelia explained further.  
"I'll go." Geralt was adamant, his threat, his problem, not theirs, not them. He didn't want his companions to be caught in the cross hairs. He didn't want Cordelia hurt because of him. He felt a tight clench at his chest at the thought of anything happening.  
"You're not going anywhere." Nenne was already dialing.  
"I won't stay here and make a mess of your home Nenne." He was trying to use her words against her. He said home, he meant family.  
"Don't be a coward. Don't run." Nenne struck back. "Dennis hello . . . I have an excuse for you to come and visit." She was pacing and talking as if shooting the breeze. "Go. Go!" She was shooing the table patrons upstairs.

"It will be ok Geralt." Cordelia had snuck up behind him, she sounded . . . Scared. He loathed the small wilty sound it gave to her voice. He wanted it gone, wanted never to hear it again. The tight grip on his chest clenched further.  
"Cordelia, go up to your room. Please."  
"You'll leave." Sadness came in around the sides to her words. "Please don't leave Geralt."  
"Just to make sure you're safe. I'll-"  
"I don't think you'll come back. Not here. Not to me. You'll think it's best and leave me. I won't see you again. You want me safe more than you want me"  
"Hmm." Was she wrong? If she wasn't, what was the right call? What was the lesser evil here? Safe and close if he couldn't have both was safe the only call? "Cordelia go upstairs. . . .please." His jaw clenched over the words.  
"Geralt?" She gave a tug at his sleeve.  
"Cordelia you know I don't like repeating myself. Just-"  
"I . . ." She shook her head and rephrased it in her mind. "I won't say it now because I'm scared." She remembered when she had asked to first kiss him. "I want to be able to say it." Geralt's eyes grew wide, he knew what she was dancing around. "Don't make me regret not saying it now?" She wanted it, asked for it.  
"Please." He didn't answer her, couldn't answer her, he didn't know what to do, what was the right choice. He did turn to face her squarely, leaned down and kissed her, it could have been reassuring, could have been goodbye, it was pressing and firm and cruely neutral. "I _want_ to hear it. Want you to feel for me Cordelia." He wanted it badly, wanted those words. He knew how it looked and didn't care, he let his hand rest in it's place against her throat. "I want it but . . .be patient for me Cordelia. Let me. . ."  
"I'll go upstairs Geralt." Ease, always ease, always room to breathe, a chance to choose. "I'd feel safer if you were there with me." She pulled back from him and his chest ached awful, he had been given room but he couldn't breathe. He had never felt crushed by control but that was how he felt, she had given him control over her ability to say she loved him and he had to decide. _'Not with someone else.'_ He wouldn't get this chance with someone else, he didn't want someone else. _'Don't run.'_ He was the one running. _'Don't leave.'_ She wanted him to stay, he had a place, he had a person, he had someone who wanted him a little less unhappy, wanted him to have nice things, have her. He had someone willing to love him just the way he was. ' _Fuck_.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I need to wrap this up I'm trying!


End file.
